In the Beginning
by GroovyKat
Summary: Yesterday, today and tomorrow ... How I'd like to think it all began..
1. Chapter 1

This one is a work in progress and I have much of it complete. I am just working out a couple of nagging problems I have toward the end of the story before I post the last of it.

For anyone reading this over at the clubhouse, I'll be updating here rather than there. With us losing the site in a little over a month because MSN bite ass, I figured I had better find a place to post this beyond the cut-off date.

Feel free to comment and tell me where I got this wrong. While a huge BotP fan, I really don't know anything about the formation of the squad, who else was involved, and … blah blah. I see mention of someone else who trained and then left, but I have no idea who he is, so I'll stick with the five I am familiar with.

Please enjoy!

Oh and yeah … **Disclaimer: I don't own the birds … I'm just playing with them for a while.**

**And on the Seventh day …. **

**G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3**

Doctor Anderson wandered slowly through the grounds of the century-old orphanage with a heavy heart and a heavier file tucked under his arm. This had been, perhaps, the fifth center he'd visited in the past 36 hours, and each venue seemed to stab another spike into his hardening heart.

He'd been sent on a search for a young boy; someone around the age of eight or nine, with no known family to speak of, and someone who looked like he had the tough and intelligent prerequisites of a future soldier for peace. These were incredibly tough traits to see inside a young boy, yet he'd already managed to find himself a couple of fantastic prospects – three of those were already safely adopted and transitioned inside his research facility.

Since he'd found the prodigies over seven months ago, he had yet to find anyone who would have the qualities, and be able to get along with the kids he pretty much called his own. Several young boys were of interest, but they seemed more of the "loner" or "bullying" type of personality, and that was the exact opposite of what he needed.

The nun walking beside him clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she indicated young men to him. "This would have been far easier, Doctor, if you had scheduled a more appropriate appointment to actually get to know the young men."

Anderson shook his head. "I need to view them in their natural environment," he answered flatly as he let his eyes fall to a small group of boys teasing a bunch of girls. "I'd prefer that my meeting with them is not staged."

The nun seemed unimpressed. "Just what are you looking for, Doctor?"

"Strength," he answered smoothly as he found his attention drawn to a young boy and girl currently in an argument only a few metres ahead of them.

"I pray this is not for an experiment, Doctor."

Anderson shook his head and kept his focus on the couple ahead of him. "Absolutely not, Sister. I assure you that any child I adopt from this facility will be treated with and afforded far more than any child to even millionaire parents."

She nodded and narrowed her eyes at the two children arguing ahead of them. Her hands did not leave her robe as she attempted to glare them into ceasing their fight. "Young Cassandra and Eric. They have been at war since she arrived two months ago."

Anderson tilted his head at the little girl. Although she was obviously years younger than the boy, she stood her ground and refused to back down even as he tilted his body forward to attempt to hunch over her tiny form. "Does the young girl have any family?"

"No," the nun answered with a tone that was both empathetic and annoyed. "She was a single child to a pair of well known scientists. They, and their entire laboratory, were incinerated three months ago."

Anderson flicked his eyes between the boy and the girl. "Was it an accident?"

"No, Arson." She removed a whip of can from the skirt of her habit and hit it across her palm in warning. "That poor girl was stuck in the middle of it. She spent three weeks in intensive care being treated for burns."

Anderson narrowed his eyes to look closely at her bare arms and legs. "You would never know it."

"She's a miracle, Doctor," she breathed. "That young child should have perished with her family, but here she is now, with no marks on her and a heart of pure gold."

He had to raise a brow at the nun. "Which is plainly obvious considering she is arguing with a boy much older than she is."

"She is likely defending one of her sisters," she said softly. "That child is as quiet as a mouse usually."

"I take it Eric is the bully?"

The nun nodded. "He is the product of a broken home, Doctor. There aren't enough prayers in this world to save that child, I'm afraid."

Anderson let a smirk tick at his lip as he watched the little girl stomp her foot and shake a finger at the older boy. Eric immediately grabbed hold of the finger and appeared to want to snap it off her. Cassandra let her eyes widen in shock, but stomped her abbey-issued shoe on top of his foot. Eric let out a yelp and dropped to his knee to hold at his foot.

Cassandra let out a humph and turned her back to him. She flicked a hip in an arrogant manner and began to stalk away. When a cuss word beginning with the letter "b" burst out of his mouth the little girl spun around and flicked a toy at him. The toy struck at Eric's ear, then recoiled back in to the girl's hand.

The nun immediately leapt into action as Eric let out a pained yelp and cupped his hands over his ear. Anderson watched with a gaped mouth as the nun seized hold of Cassandra's ear. "The spirit of the devil is inside you, child." She cursed disgustedly.

"No," he muttered to himself. "There's spirit, but I don't think it's the devil."

He cast his eyes at the red manila folder under his arm and he pursed his lips in contemplation. Perhaps he was looking in the wrong direction for his newest little protégé. Before the nun had a chance to lead the little girl away he stepped quickly up to them.

"Apologies, Sister, but I would appreciate the opportunity to speak with Cassandra for a short while."

The sister narrowed her eyes. "I thought you were looking for a boy-child."

"No," he answered as he lowered his eyes to the little girl. "I'm looking for a child, any child."

The nun flicked her hand and freed Cassandra's ear from her hold. "Take it underneath the tree, there is a bench there that you may have some privacy, but we can keep an eye on her."

Anderson nodded. "I understand." He smiled down at the little girl and used his hand to indicate the bench and to ask her to lead him to it. "After you, young lady."

Cassandra looked at him with suspicion, but did as she was asked. She didn't say a word at all, even after he took a seat on the bench beside her and extended his hand in greeting.

"Hi. My name is John Anderson."

She looked warily at the proffered hand for a few moments before she gently touched it in a chaste and fairly non-existent shake. She still did not say a word as she set her hands on her knees and lowered her head shyly.

Anderson had to wonder where the little firebird had disappeared to and probed her a little to get her to open up. "Was that boy bothering you?"

She nodded.

"Tell me, what was the weapon that you used." He shrugged as if to pretend to be nonchalant. "It was pretty cool."

When she answered, it was so softly spoken that he had to strain to hear her. "There is no need to speak to me like a child, Sir."

His brow rose slightly – as did a smile. "I apologise, Cassandra. I don't have a little girl of my own, so you have to let me know when I speak to you wrong."

She inhaled a deep breath. "My father used to call me Princess," she remembered sadly. "He said I was named after a Trojan Princess." She looked up at him. "He was an anthr .. anthrop … anthropo … uh."

"Anthropologist," he finished softly.

She nodded. "He and my mom were scientists." She let her gaze rise to his. "I miss them."

"I bet you do, Cassandra," he pursed his lips. "May I call you Princess, too?"

"Are you going to adopt me?"

Anderson smiled. "I'm thinking about it. Would you like that?"

Her shoulder tipped up the meet with her ear and she drew a worn yo-yo from her pocket. "Do you have sons?"

His brow furrowed at the question and he watched her let the yo-yo head fall and rise beside her. "I have three, with one on the way."

She nodded and continued to play with her toy as she looked out into the yard. "I don't get along well with boys," she sighed. "They always pick on me."

"That's because you're very pretty," he offered gently. "Boys pick on girls they think are pretty."

She blushed and giggled softly. "That's silly." She looked up at him with big green eyes. "But thank you. My mom always told me to say thank you when you get as compliment."

"You're welcome," he said softly as he let his eyes trace over her dark hair tied back in a pair of braids. "How old are you, Cassandra."

Her blush remained firmly in place and she almost seemed to squirm a little. "You can call me Princess if you like."

He smiled. "I'd be honoured to."

"I'm nearly six," she breathed as she stretched out her legs in front of her and extended her arms straight to hold on to her knees. She peered over her shoulder at him. "But I am smarter than seven. I can read and write and play the guitar. I'm reading a big girl book right now there are no pictures."

Anderson gave a laugh. "That is a big girl book."

Her eyes narrowed as she gave him a genuine smile. The smile quickly faltered as her lips pursed tightly together. "Your sons, are they nice? How old are they?"

He leaned his forearms on his knees to bring himself lower to her height. "Well, Jason is my oldest, he's eight. Mark is nearly eight. Tiny turned seven two months ago."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, they are so much older than I am."

He smiled conspiratorially. "Yes, but you know what?"

Her tone quieted and there was a definite smile in her words. "What?"

"You are much more mature than they are."

She covered her mouth in her hands and giggled. "You're funny." She calmed her giggles. "But you're very nice. I like you."

"I'm glad to hear that," he said with a true smile. "Princess, how would you like to come with me and meet them all?"

Her eyes seemed to sparkle. "I'd really like that, Mr. Anderson." She looked up as the nun signaled for the conversation to end. She turned to him and put her yo-yo in his hand. "Thank you very much for talking to me. My father gave me this yo-yo. I want you to take it."

"I can't take it," he said softly.

Her gaze moved to the nun. "If you don't, Mr. Anderson, she will. I don't like her so I don't want her to have it." She stood and shuffled her foot in the dirt. "Thank you again, Mr. Anderson. Even if you don't take me to meet your sons, I really am glad that I met you."

"You too, Princess," he breathed as she wagged her fingers in a childish wave goodbye. He watched her leave and looked down at her little gift. He held it up to the light and admired it, and how she had used it earlier. His eyes fell back to her disappearing form and his decision was made.

He had been doing this all wrong. With all of his current boys coming to him from varying sources and through painful circumstances, how did he honestly believe that by searching for specifics he'd find what he needed.

As with Mark, Jason and Tiny, this little flower had come to him. She was exactly what he had been looking for, he'd just been looking in the wrong way.

She was absolutely perfect.

His decision made, and his explanation to the project heads forming, he strode purposefully to the main office to begin the adoption process.


	2. Chapter 2

Anderson looked critically at the statistics on the monitor in front of him. Only a handful on months previously his three young charges had completed their final round of implant surgeries and had spent the better part of recovery time being tutored and guided into discovering their new abilities.

Jason was by far the most exciting member of the project. He had excelled in the sometimes painful training techniques and had far surpassed all expectations. He suffered few side effects to the growing repertoire of new abilites. Aside from his own growing ego and accompanying defiant nature, he was becoming exactly what the project had desired.

Tiny's focus had improved impeccably. The implant's most worrisome side-effect seemed to be more of a Steroid effect. The young lad's girth had doubled, as had his appetite. The initial concern was that the weight gain was purely fat, but after a recent physical, when the lad's BMI had alarmed the doctor's on staff, he'd been ordered to strip. Before them all stood a shy and embarrassed young Hercules. The definition of his physique had prompted one of the yound interns to suggest that Tiny would be the perfect specimen for the study of anatomy. Their only main concern now, however, was the new and improve youngster's impressive stature eventually slowing him down in combat.

Mark had been a complete disappointment, which had prompted this emergency meeting. The lad most expected to breeze through the process and training without fail was falling apart. Anderson hadn't and couldn't seem to understand just what their failure with young Mark had been. He had initially been eager and his training and aptitude unsurpassed by any other. Now, after the long and exhausting rounds of surgery and training, the young boy seemed to have lost all drive. His book smarts and theoretical training was exhilarating – there was no faulting his intelligence – but it was sadly being overlooked because of the absolute lack of practical drive. He was presenting tactical and analytical assessments within a few seconds when in the classroom, but out in simulation the young boy just had no interest or wants to do anything.

It was baffling.

"Doctor," one of the lab technicians probed as he used a pen to circle the air in front of the monitor display. "Mark's reaction to the implant stimulation is baffling. According to data his pre-frontal cortex activity is well above expectations. His serotonin and norepinephrine levels are well within normal ranges. Blood test analysis also revealed high adrenaline and endorphin levels, which should elevate his mood, not decrease it like this. You ask me, Chief, the kid's either emotionless and therefore uninterested in the project, or he's actually just having a bad couple of months."

Anderson's lips pursed. "So what you're trying to imply is that Mark is," he paused. "Sad."

The technician gave a shrug. "I don't know what else to tell you. There is no clinical reason for his current demeanour except that there's got to be something really bugging him."

Anderson sighed hard and rubbed at his chin. "Well he is recovering from his mother's death and the loss of his father. He has no other family to speak of."

"That'll rip apart any kid, Doctor. Do you think it's a good idea to keep him on the project?"

Anderson nodded firmly. "Increase his counseling sessions."

The tech shook his head. "He's in the chair three times a week already. The Shrink says that the boy has no emotions."

"That I find hard to believe."

Both men looked toward Mark, who sat apart from Tiny and Jason on an old railway sleeper that had been fashioned into a flowerbed guard. His forearms were on his thighs as he stared down at a model plane in the dirt. He didn't look up or even flinch when Tiny yelped out after Jason tackled him to the ground in a friendly game of football.

The technician watched Mark with pursed lips. "Have you ever seen that boy crack a smile?"

Anderson shook his head. "Not since Amanda took ill."

"It's like alight was snuffed out."

Anderson agreed. "He'll work it out in time. Mark's been through a lot in his young life." His attention snapped at the sound of an excited young female voice calling in from the doorway.

"Mr. Anderson!" Princess skipped into the room and leapt up to give him a big hug. She hooked her legs at his hips and hugged him tightly. "It's so wonderful to see you again."

He welcomed the affection and returned her hug in kind. "You too, Princess." He let her wriggle herself to the ground and whistled appreciatively as she spun to show off her new little dress. "That is a beautiful dress."

She curtseyed. "Thank you, kind sir." She pointed a foot in front of her to display her shiny new balled-slipper shoe. "Aren't they pretty?"

He smiled and gave her a nod. "Pretty shoes for a pretty little girl." He flicked his eyes to the technician as he cleared his throat to ask who the little girl was. "This, Doctor Michaels, is Cassandra. She will be joining our family and is here with us for every weekend until her adoption is completed."

Michaels cleared his throat again. "A girl?"

"Yes," Anderson said through a smile as he pulled a yo-yo from his pocket. "A girl."

"Are you sure that is a good idea? The implants and training schedules were created for boy-children, not girls."

Anderson looked up to him as he crouched in front of Princess. "Well you have six months to modify, test and perfect the implant for a female. She's already been accepted into the program." His gaze fell to the little girl. "Here you are, Princess. I kept your yo-yo safe for you."

Her face beamed as she took the toy into both hands and admired it. "Oh thank you."

"Now," he said gently, making sure that the shift in his attention was a definite end to the conversation with the technician. "How would you like to go and meet your new brothers?"

Her eyes widened and she nodded eagerly. "Yes please."

He took her by the hand and led her into the courtyard. "Jason, Tiny, Mark, please come over here. I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Jason and Tiny dutifully jogged over, while Mark maintained his position on the edge of the flower-bed. It was Jason who made the first comment before Anderson had a chance to introduce them.

"A girl?" His face screwed up in disgust and he rolled his tongue out of his mouth as if experiencing a gross taste. "I thought this was a girl free zone?"

Princess' face stretched in surprise, and then into fear as she saw Jason's face and body slowly morph into a typically brat-like pose and expression. She hid herself behind Anderson and peered around his hip at him. "He doesn't like me," she whispered softly.

Anderson folded his arms across his chest. "Jason, be nice, okay?"

Jason rolled his eyes to the sky and exaggerated a long sigh. "Fine." He extended his hand to Princess. "Hi. I'm Jason."

Princess didn't come out of hiding, but she let her hand whip out to shake Jason's. "I'm Cassandra. Um. Nice to meet you?"

Jason smirked. She was timid, so this was going to be fun. "Boo!"

She yelped and ducked in farther behind Anderson. She whimpered at Jason laughing hysterically at her. Anderson narrowed his eyes at him. "Play nice, Jason."

Tiny slapped a heavy hand on Jason's stomach and gave him a short glare. "Aww. Come on Jase, leave the girl alone." He peered around Anderson and gave a goofy gulp of a laugh as he extended his hand. "Hi Cassandra, I'm Tiny." He thumbed behind him at Jason, who was still laughing to himself. "Ignore him. He's like a vulture, he finds a weakness and when you're down he swoops in for the kill."

"That's mean," she whispered softly as she peered around Anderson's hip again. "You're mean."

He feigned a scary look that was softened by his own amusement, so she poked her tongue out at him. He chuckled. "Ahh, sorry Cassandra, I'm just playin'. Welcome to the family."

She started to find her courage enough to step around Anderson. She kept her hand on his hip as if for security, and angled her head as she looked across at Mark. "He doesn't want to say hello?"

Jason shrugged. "There's something wrong with him. He doesn't like to play with us."

Tiny nodded in agreement. "I dunno what's up with him."

She sighed softly. "He looks so sad."

Anderson crouched down beside her. "Why don't you go over and say hello, Princess?"

She pressed her finger to her lips and seemed to contemplate it a little. "Will he mind?"

Jason thrust his hands in his pocket and shuffled his foot in the dirt. "You'll be lucky if he even looks at you, Cass."

She tilted her head to Anderson and gave him a smile. "Okay, if he won't come to me, I'll go to him. What is his name?"

"Mark," he answered softly.

"Mark," she sighed as she skipped along the path toward him. She stooped to pick a small daisy that had poked itself up through the break between concrete slabs and continued toward Mark. As she approached she slowed her pace to approach warily. When in front of him she held the daisy outward. "Hi. I'm Cassandra. I'm new to the family."

Mark's eyes rose only to the flower. He sucked a breath of air with a snap through the side of his mouth and lowered his head further. "I'm Mark."

She pursed her lips at him not taking her flower, or even looking up at her so she flicked her hand in a manner to demand he take her offering. "Take it, Mark. I brought you a flower."

He snapped up his hand to take it without raising his eyes. "Thanks."

She was offended. This little boy was being deliberately rude to her. She kept a tight grip on the stalk and tugged against his hold. "It's not polite to not look at someone who's talking to you." she snapped. "You are being very rude."

From his section of the courtyard, Anderson watched intently. He knew little Cassandra wouldn't tolerate him being rude to her, and he would likely not tolerate her expected reaction to it – at least he hoped Mark wouldn't. He held his breath and waited.

Mark's eyes flared and he drew a frustrated breath into his lungs. His head slowly rose up from her pink ballet shoes, over her ribbed-lycra leggings, along the hem of her dress, and over the flowery pattern to her hands. He took a fast look at where she held her hands over his, and then flicked his gaze up angrily at her face. "Then if you don't like …" His breath hitched at the largest set of green eyes he'd ever seen in his young life.

"Then if I don't like what?" she spat in response. "If I don't like rude boys and bullies?"

He stood up quickly, quick enough to accidentally knock his head against her chin. He let out an "ow" and took a stumbled step backward. He closed his eyes in embarrassment and rubbed sheepishly at his head. It was when he heard her sniff that he opened his eyes to look at her. He felt his heart shift in his chest when he saw her big green eyes fill with tears and her bottom lip slowly protrude outward.

"You … you …" Her breath shuddered as it drew into her and her eyes began to blink fast as her face creased in warning she was about to cry.

Mark felt panicked. He just made a little girl cry. He flicked his head from side to side as if searching for either a way out, or for outside assistance. "Oh. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." He reached out and touched her on the shoulder. "It was an accident, I promise."

She shook her head from him and tossed the little flower on the ground at his feet. With tears sliding down her face she turned and ran into Anderson's waiting arms. He cooed softly to her in assurance that Mark really didn't mean it.

Jason, from beside her, let out a laugh. He set his hands on his hips and made a show of laughing at her. "Awww. Did the little girl get beat up on by the other little girl?"

She sniffed hard and pushed herself out of Anderson's hold. She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. "You are so mean," she growled at him through her tears. "That really hurt, Jason."

He leaned forward and flicked his fingers at her chin. "Little girl got a boo boo?"

She wanted to stomp her foot on the floor and snark back at him, but didn't get the chance before Mark drove himself in between she and Jason. His head was tilted aggressively and he stabbed his finger into his chest. "Back off, Jason."

"It lives," Jason growled in response. The glint in his eyes told he was going to enjoy a quick scuffle. "About time."

"Oh," Mark growled with a smirk of challenge on his face. "It lives alright." He knocked his chest against Jason's and shoved him backward.

Princess brought both hands to her mouth in shock and made to step into it, but Anderson held her back. "It's okay, Princess. Let them work it out on their own." He didn't know if he hid the thrill in his voice, but he honestly didn't care as he looked back at the technicians, who watched with wide eyes.

Mark seemed to have grown in stature as he faced off with Jason. His shoulders were squared, his stare was steeled and he seemed to circle the other boy as he formulated the most effective battle Plan.

Jason, for his part, refused to back down or concede any ounce of space or defeat to his aggressor. In fact, it seemed as though the lad was ready, willing and able to give and take a few in the name of contest.

As he saw both boys crouch in preparation to attack each other Anderson boomed a loud warning. "Mark. Jason. Enough. Save that for training."

Mark remained in place and spoke back at Anderson without taking his eyes off Jason. "Not until he apologizes to Cassandra."

"I think you owe her one too," Jason fired back, his stance and attention battle-ready.

"You first."

Jason snarled. "Who made you the boss?"

Anderson was quietly thrilled, but kept his tone firm and emotionless. "Both of you apologise, on the count of three. Whoever doesn't utter the word sorry when I say three, will be on kitchen detail for a week." He set his hand on Princess' shoulder. "One. Two. Three."

Compliance came in the low spoken sorries of the two boys. They still stared at each other hotly, but their body language had cooled.

Princess let out a gasp and skipped toward Mark. Without a second thought she threw herself at him, with her arms around his neck, and held him tight. "Oh thank you, Mark. Noone has ever stuck up for me like that before."

Mark was genuinely stunned. He looked up at Anderson with wide, stunned eyes. He held his hands out either side of her as though he had no idea how to react. When he saw Anderson nod and smile, he felt himself relax. He let his arms circle her waist and smiled as he leaned his head against hers.

"Get used to it," he promised softly. "I'll be your hero."

"You already are," she swooned.

Anderson strode back to the technicians, many of whom were frantically scribbling into their notepads and clipboards.

Michaels let out an impressed breath and offered Anderson a shrug. "Incredible."

Anderson thumbed his nose and slipped a hand into his pocket. "It looks like we've found the boy's trigger."

Michaels pursed his lips and shook his head. "A girl?"

"No," Anderson breathed. "He needs to protect. We're training him to be nothing but a mindless soldier. We're giving him nothing to fight for. He lost his whole family and thinks he has nothing worth defending." He watched as the pair separated and started to laugh and joke together with both Jason and Tiny – the previous disagreement forgotten. "In her he has found someone to defend."

Michaels gave a curt nod, and then shook his head. "Are you saying that Cassandra is being set up as the damsel in distress here solely for Mark to be able to fight?"

Anderson shook his head. "Oh I have no doubt that our little lady will be anything but a damsel in distress, Michaels. The only reason that she didn't face off against Jason was that Mark wouldn't let her."

Michaels raised a brow and looked down at his clipboard with a shake of his head. "For an eight year old, that boy can be intimidating can't he? I thought Jason was frightening, but Mark when he's mad … wow."

"You should have met his father."


	3. Chapter 3

As if being blindfolded for the exercise wasn't bad enough. As if she didn't already feel in absolute peril that she was being hung upside-down on a rope tied at her ankles. Did they really have to have growing flames either side of her and a gigantic pool of gasoline within reach of each lick of the flames?

Princess knew she was sweating. It was hot. It was hot, and it was terrifying. At any point within the next, and possibly last, few moments of her life, the whole room could explode with far more ferocity than the explosive she was currently feeling her way through to identify and disarm. The thought she may die at seven, before she got to see young Keyop take his first steps, before she had her first kiss, before she even got to truly understand what she was even doing, was mortifying.

She wished she could get her heart to stop beating so heavily. "I can't do it," she whined to herself.

Anderson's voice sounded through the speaker ports as he watched her from an observation room. "Just concentrate, Princess. I know you can do it."

"I'm scared, Mr. Anderson." She wiped at her brow and clumsily tried to feel her way around the small package at her fingertips. "I can't do it."

"I can't means I won't, Princess. Now just concentrate. Smell the compound, what is it?"

"I don't know," she whined.

"Just concentrate."

She sniffed and tugged the blindfold to pull it under her chin. She glared at the window at his image. "Then how about you try it, Sir?" She snapped with a voice more teary than it was defiant. "I'm too scared to concentrate."

The fires surrounding her blew out with a hiss. Anderson was obviously unimpressed. "Hit the showers, Princess. We'll try this again tomorrow."

She dangled for a moment and cursed herself. With a long sigh she hauled herself upward and climbed the short length of rope to a ledge on the side of the room. Rather than immediately disentangling herself from the rope, she brought her knees to her chest and dropped her forehead on them to cry.

Mark's voice soothed smoothly over the speakers. "Cassie, you okay?"

She shook her head on her knees, but didn't look up. "I made him mad, Mark."

"No you didn't," he assured her gently. "Anderson pushes hard and might sound mad, but he's not. He understands."

Her head flicked up to the window. She saw Mark standing alone in the booth with the microphone in his hand. "No he doesn't."

He tilted his head and gave her a smile. "You'll know when he's mad. Ask Jason."

She couldn't find the want to smile in return. She hugged at her knees harder. "I can't do this. I'm so scared. I don't like fire."

"It's just fire," he offered softly. "Don't be scared of it."

She started to rock backward and forward, shaking her little head enough that her braid swung side to side. "I don't like fire," she repeated. "I don't like fire."

Mark sensed something more in her fear than just a typical girlish abhoration to fire. In the twelve months he'd known her, he'd never seen her jump away from anything besides a bug. He projected a genuine concern when he spoke next. "Cassie, why don't you like fire? Did something happen?"

She shook her head and continued to rock back and forward. "I just don't like it, okay?"

He didn't believe her … at all. He left the safety of the observation pod and made his way to the entrance to the main chamber. He made sure she could hear him coming as he climbed down the ladder to sit with her on the ledge. "Talk to me, Cass?"

She didn't look up as he climbed down. "I can't."

He touched his feet to the ledge and shuffled them on the thick slab of fire retardant tiles. "Then can I sit with you?"

She wiped her eyes on her forearms and rested her cheek on them to look at him. "Uh-huh."

He took a seat beside her and drew his knees up in a looser version of her position. He pulled a pack of skittles from his pocket and offered her some. "We all have secrets," he said softly as he poured a small amount of the candy into her hand. "Things we don't want to talk about."

She popped a red skittle into her mouth and sucked on it. She used the excuse that she had food in her mouth not to respond, then added the remaining green and purple ones to the mix. She looked ahead of her at the pool of gasoline and the jets that fueled the flames.

Mark didn't mind the silence, really. He had enough patience to just sit with her and wait it out. He dropped a green skittle into his fingers and tossed it upward to catch it in his mouth. It made her giggle to watch, so he did it again.

"I'm so scared it will bounce off my teeth and break it," she admitted inside a giggle.

He held the pack to her. "Try it."

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "Oh, I can't."

"It's easy," he chuckled as he tossed a red and a purple one in the air and caught them both with a flick of his head in between. With a crunch he winked at her. "You just have to keep your eye on it."

"Then it will hit my eye."

He gave her a side glance. "Smarty."

She poked her tongue out at him. So he plopped a skittle on it. She crossed her eyes to look at the candy and them quickly drew it into her mouth. She opened her lips to let him watch her bite it, then stuck it back out on the tip of her tongue. "What it back?" she mumbled with her tongue out of her mouth.

His brow flicked, but he snatched it from her tongue and popped it in his mouth. "Mmm, yummy. I like the orange ones."

"Ewww, that's so gross."

He shrugged with a smile and leaned his back against the wall. "Like I said, I like the orange ones."

"Are they your favourite?"

He hummed as his response and swallowed the candy. "Yep."

"I like the red ones."

He gave a nod and searched through the bag for all the red ones. With a smile he passed them across to her. "Here ya go."

She giggled her thanks and cupped her mouth with her hand to eat them all at once. He raised his brows with a smirk as he flicked a yellow one into the gasoline. "You know, Cassie. I was scared my first time in here too."

She couldn't talk with her mouthful, so she raised her head to prevent spilling the contents out as she said, "uh-huh?"

He nodded. "It took me four times before I could do it."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You are doing bombs, too?"

He shook his head and pursed his lips to suck a skittle into his mouth. He tongued it to the back of his mouth to bite it. "Nope. I had to walk on a rope."

She choked a little on the juice from her candy. Some of it snuck out of the side of her mouth. "Like in a circus?"

He chuckled as he used his finger to wipe the ooze from her mouth. "Yeah, I guess. Mr. Anderson was so mad when I kept falling. Then he added the fire." His brows rose and his eyes widened at her. "Then I was scared. Wow. I ran and hid the first time."

She swallowed her half-chewed wad with a wince. "Oh my. But, you did it later?"

He nodded. "After I ran away two more times."

"Wow."

"I didn't know."

He shrank just a little in embarrassment. "Don't tell Jason. Please."

She made a zip movement across her mouth. "I won't tell him if you don't."

"But you have to keep trying," he urged. "It's really scary, I know it is. "

She nodded and pursed her lips to agree. "Really scary."

"But I did it. Mr. Anderson was so proud."

"And now you're good at it?"

He gave her a self-satisfied grin. "Yup. I'm not scared anymore."

She looked down at the ties still on her ankle and touched at it. She strethched out her legs and set her hands on her knees. "If I try it again, will you watch me?"

He smiled widely. "Oh yeah!"

Her eyes narrowed in time with a wide smile over her shoulder at him. "Okay. Can you tell Mr. Anderson I want to try again?"

He jumped up. "Oh yeah! Of course. Just wait, I'll get him."

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In the booth above their heads Anderson watched with a proud smile. He had not expected Mark to step in like he had – but he was thrilled that he had. He didn't realize that someone else had also watched the exchange until a low voice sounded out from behind him.

"That boy definitely has a way with her, doesn't he?"

Anderson let his eyes shift to the figure beside him. "President Kane. I didn't expect you to be here today." At a look from the President he rolled his eyes to answer the question. "Mark has a way with all of them, Sir."

He leaned over the console and took a look at the pair on the ledge. "Have you given much thought as to who you want to lead this team of kids?"

Anderson nodded and jutted his chin toward Mark as he climbed the ladder. "I have a fair idea."

Kane nodded and turned to leave the room. "I expect your recommendation by the end of the month."


	4. Chapter 4

Anderson was in the middle of a delicious tuna salad sandwich when he was interrupted in his office by a harried young training technician. He couldn't help but let out an impatient moan at being interrupted for the tenth time this afternoon. It was already three in the afternoon and he sorely needed sustenance in order to continue to function.

"Doctor Anderson. This is urgent. We need you to come to the gymnasium immediately." He pointed frantically at the doorway. "Mark and Jason are fighting."

Anderson dropped a brow in annoyance and dabbed at the side of his mouth to clear it of mayonnaise. "Can't you deal with it?" he asked as he longingly stared at the second half of his sandwich. "Just tell them both to break it up and ground them or something if they don't stop."

The technician raised his hands and actually backed away a little. "Oh we aren't getting involved in that," he cracked with a shake of his head. "They might only be ten years old, but they could take our heads off if we tried to stop it."

Anderson leaned his elbows on the desk in front of him. "If they can take your head, they can surely take mine," he admitted dryly. "I'm far too important to the project to be taken down by a ten year old."

"This isn't a joke," the technician spat. "The two of them have been at each other all day and we've all had enough. This fight is that straw, Doctor. You know, that just might break the camel's back?"

Anderson's brow rose. "Is that your way of tendering your resignation?"

The technician raised a finger. "We'll all be tendering something if you don't go down there and fix it. Jason has already shattered the ballistics window to the observation room and is using the ledge as a ricochet point for those damn spiked feathers you keep issuing him."

Anderson's lips pursed in interest. "And how does Mark seem to be doing against him?"

The technicians jaw gaped. "How is he doing? Are you kidding me? I'm telling you that the place is being destroyed and you want to know if Mark is keeping up?"

Anderson steepled his fingers in front of his nose and nodded as he set his chin on his thumbs. "Yes. How is Mark handling himself?"

"Uh." The technician was at a loss for words. "Uh, he's doing okay. The two of them are so quick that they can rarely catch each other to do any real damage."

"I mean emotionally, Andrews."

The Technician, Andrews, rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Oh I don't know. We've all been to concerned about not getting killed by the two of them that we haven't taken much notice …"

"But that is your job," he interrupted calmly. "Regardless of what those boys, and young Princess, get up to; it is up to you to analyze their actions, emotions and skill level to determine where further refinement may be required."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely serious," he confirmed dryly. "Those kids are the future guardians of our solar system. I need to know how their training is going, and how they do when in emotional duress." He gave in to desire and snatched his sandwich off the table to take a large bite. "Especially Mark. He's being groomed to lead the team."

"Then perhaps he shouldn't be picking fights with his soon-to-be subordinates."

Anderson practically groaned as he swallowed his food. "Somehow I doubt Mark picked that particular battle."

Andrews gave a nod and roll of the eyes. "Okay, so Jason started it, but Mark shouldn't take the bait." He narrowed his eyes at Anderson. "And anyway, when are you so fast to let them fight it out? You're the first to intervene most of the time."

Anderson popped the last piece of his sandwich into his mouth and shook his head. "Today's different."

"Why?"

Anderson ignored the question. "Where's Princess?"

Andrews frowned, but looked onto his clipboard. "Cassandra's in a ballet class right now."

"Then interrupt and send her to the gymnasium."

Andrews shook his head and gave Anderson a disgusted glare. "You want to send the girl in to that mess? Doctor, none of Ius/I want to go in there, including yourself, yet you'll send in an eight year old?"

"You underestimate her?"

"With all due respect, Sir. Cassandra is just a young girl. Those two are in the midst of an apocalyptic battle." He waggled a finger at him. "They'll kill her just to get on with it."

Anderson pushed himself out of his chair and stalked smoothly to the technician. "You've been on this project for how long now?"

"Twelve months."

"Princess has been on the roster for well over two years now. You might see a timid little girl, but I can assure you she is not." He flicked his finger to order Andrews to follow him. "When any of those boys are threatened, even against each other, she doesn't sit back and let it happen/"

"And you think she'll face off against Mark and Jason?"

Anderson wasn't impressed by the doubtful tone used by the technician as they wandered toward the dance hall. "One day she will be up against far worse than Mark and Jason," he droned. "Consider this training."

He rapped on the door and smiled at the little girl in a pink leotard and tu-tu completing a pirouette in front of a mirror. His gaze shifted to her Russian instructor. "Pardon the interruption Natasha, but I need to end Princess' class early."

"Da," she answered firmly as she clapped her hands for Princess' attention. "Cassandra, Princess. You may leave. Wonderful work today."

Princess wiped her brow and gave her instructor a hug before she skipped toward Anderson. She gave a curtsey at the door in thanks and quickly let out a breath to relax her stomach into the tiniest little pooch. "I have to hold my breath to keep my tummy in," she giggled as she took Anderson's hand in hers and looked around him to a technician she didn't recognize. She tipped her ear to her shoulder shyly and blushed a little. "You must be Mr. Andrews. Jason has told me all about you?"

Andrews' brow rose at the little girl so shyly hanging on to Anderson's hand. "Knowing Jason, the rumours can't be good." He looked at Anderson. "And you think it's a good idea to throw her in with Mark and Jason?"

At the sound of their names, Princess looked up at Anderson. "Mark and Jason? Are they okay?"

Anderson paused in the hallway and crouched in front of her. "Mark and Jason are arguing."

She pursed her lips and frowned. "Arguing or fighting?"

"They're fighting, Princess."

She gave a gasp and covered her mouth in her hands. "Today?"

Anderson nodded. "Andrews here says that Jason picked a fight with Mark and they're destroying the gymnasium."

Her eyes narrowed and her little body began to lock up. "Is Jason stupid?"

He set his hands on her shoulders. "I think he might have forgotten, Princess. Would you mind going in there and trying to break it up; or would you prefer for me to do it and ground them both for a month?"

Her little hands balled into fists and her eyes narrowed, which was an adorable contrast to her demure little ballet costume. "Yes, Mr. Anderson. I will go in there and see what I can do. May I have my yo-yo?"

He pulled it from his labcoat pocket – they had an agreement that he would watch over it when she couldn't carry it on her – and passed it to her. "Don't you break it, now."

She gave him a wink, slipped the ring onto her finger, and skipped on the floor toward the gymnasium. "Promise I won't," she sang as she skipped.

Andrews was particularly confused. "You gave her a toy and asked her to break up the war of good versus evil and expect her to come out in one piece?"

Anderson walked briskly toward the observation room for the gymnasium. "It isn't a toy. It's a weapon."

"It's a yo-yo."

Anderson tilted his head to his colleague. "Which was a weapon long before it was a toy."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

***********

Princess skipped to the doorway and actually gagged when she saw the melee and mess inside. There was most definitely a fight going on, which she anticipated, but it was far more than she had been expecting. The side window, a two-inch sheet of Kevlar reinforced glass, was shattered and spread in chunks across the floor. The once-pristine gymnastics horse, parallel bars, beam and trampoline were either shredded, splintered of driven into one of the cinder-block walls. A punching bag lay limply on its side and was peppered with feathers and pin-hole marks.

Worse were Mark and Jason. They switched between choking each other, kicking and punching, or driving each other into walls.

Princess was mortified. She gaped at the boys and then looked across at the broken window where at least half a dozen onlookers watched. "Stop it." She screamed with a stomp of the foot as she focused her attention on the fight. "Stop it stop it stop it stop it!"

Her demands went ignored and both Mark and Jason continued with their battle. Her eyes narrowed in disgust and her whole body seemed to take a forward tilt as she clenched her fists either side of her and stalked toward the two boys. "I said STOP!"

A feather whizzed past her ear, and she snapped up her hand to catch it. She didn't cease in her slow stalk, nor did she even look at the feather as she dropped her hand and let it fall to the blue tumbling mat. She did, however, bring her arm around her as is ready to aim her own weapon at the one who used his on her.

"Stop it now!"

Mark's voice growled through the din. "Stay out of this, Cassie. This is none of your business."

She fell into a crouch and eyeballed Mark as she brought her hand across her body. "That's Cassandra to you, Mark," she grunted as she flicked her hand with fingers splayed to release her yo-yo. "And it's my business when two people I love are fighting!" It clipped him on the ear and she closed her hand to yank the weapon's head. She tugged her fist back and recoiled the weapon.

"What the hell?!" Mark spat in surprise as he brought his hand to his ear. His glare shot in her direction and left him wide open to an attack from Jason.

Princess wasn't about to let Jason have the upper hand. As she saw the smirk of imminent victory flash across his lips, she leapt out of her crouch. "I. Said. Stop!" She yelled as she landed on the mat in front of Jason and proceeded to give him hard shoves in the chest to force him to back off. "Stop. Stop. Stop!"

Jason wasn't about to give Princess the satisfaction of ceasing what was going to be a victory. He sneered at her, hunching over her with the intention to intimidate her. "Why don't you go play with your dolls?"

She didn't let the attempt at intimidation work. She raised her face and moved it closer to him. The girl had to look up and raise herself on her toes to do so. "I can't because you cut all of their heads off!"

"Yeah. Yeah well you deserved it."

She wasn't about to play his game. Instead she walked on her toes a step closer to him and snarled into his face as she clutched handfuls of his shirt chest to pull him at her. "How could you?" she seethed into his face. "Today!"

He straightened himself up, which actually picked her up a little off the ground. "What makes today any different from …" realization hit and he let out a long apologetic moan. "Oh man, Mark."

Mark was still somewhat stunned that his little Cassandra had actually struck him with … a weapon? He rubbed at his ear and looked across at Princess and Jason. His blue eyes filled with tears, but he held off letting them fall. "Cass," he said softly. "You hit me?"

She released herself from Jason and quickly ran herself into Mark. "I'm so sorry," she begged as she lay her ear against his chest. "I just needed you two to stop fighting."

Mark looked up at Jason, still obviously somewhat in shock. "Jason, dude. I'm sorry."

Jason rubbed the back of his head and kicked at a shattered piece of something on the floor. "Nah, Mark. I shouldn't have …" he looked up as though he were in physical pain. "Man. I'm sorry."

Princess giggled against Mark's chest. "Now kiss and make up."

Jason shook his head and held up his hand. "Oh no. Ain't happening." He strode toward Mark and gave him a slap on the shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't realize what today was. You shoulda said something."

Mark thrust out a hand to offer a friendly shake to Jason. "It's been three years, Jason. I should just get over it already."

"No," Princess breathed softly as she pulled herself away from him and backed up toward Jason. "Because I won't let you."

He frowned and shook his head. "It's just so hard. I'm mad, I'm sad, I … I …"

"Mark, we're all where you're art," Jason offered supportively. "If you gotto get it out, do it. If you need to punch me, do it. If you have to be a girl and cry, do it."

"Yeah," Princess offered. "I'll cry with you.."

Mark spared a look at Jason, who was slouched in an indignant pose, and then at Princess, innocently watching him with wide, wide eyes a demure, girlish pose. He found himself drawing in a sniff and dropping his head as he felt the washing sting of swirling tears fill and then spill onto his cheek.

"God, I miss her."

In a flash, Princess was in his arms. She soothed and began to cry herself as Jason moved in beside the two of them and wrapped his arms in a group hug around them all.

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From the observation room, Andrews let out a whistle. "Woah."

Anderson nodded proudly and turned his head to look almost arrogantly at the group of technicians. "A little girl managed to do in five minutes what a group of seven adults couldn't do in nearly an hour." He focused his stare on Andrews. "Don't underestimate my little girl, or question my decisions ever again. You do, and you're off this project."

Andrews nodded. "Absolutely not, Doctor."

Anderson grunted and took a look around. "Call someone in to clean up this mess."

Andrews used his whole hand to indicate the threesome in the room. "What about them? They're responsible."

He shook his head. "No. Not today. I need this room operational again as soon as possible, so call in someone to do it."

"What the hell is so special about today?"

Anderson put a hand in his pocket and walked to the doorway. He spoke over his shoulder as he took a short last look at the trio. "Three years ago today, Mark's mother, Amanda, passed away … She passed on the fifth anniversary of his father's disappearance." He took a breath. "Today the lad grieves, and we damn well let him do it."


	5. Chapter 5

Doctor Anderson stood behind his best friend, the man he'd charged with giving Mark flight training, and peered over his shoulder at a monitor with Mark's image on it. With over 500 hours in the flight simulator, it had been decided to allow the boy to pilot a real McCoy aircraft.

Today was his first solo flight and Anderson was worried.

"Cronus, are you sure Mark's ready?"

Cronus, an attractive man with a pencil-thin moustache across his lips, gave a curt nod as he peered quickly down at a handful of communications dials on his console. "He's had more training at 13 than have half the men on my squad at 30. Trust me, John. He's ready."

Anderson wasn't entirely convinced. It was correct that Mark had logged more hours on the simulator and with an instructor in the air than most adults, but his decreasing moods over the past three weeks had him thinking otherwise. "I'm not sure his focus is sharp enough for a solo flight today."

Cronus grunted. "Yeah, well maybe he needs a damn near miss to pull his brain back in line." He lowered his mouth to the microphone and barked a handful of gruff orders to the young pilot. His lip curled as he pressed his back into the back of his chair. "Kid's like a yo-yo with his emotions. Up and down, like a damn woman."

"Yeah, well," Anderson countered sharply. "Maybe that has something to do with the fact his dad left him as a toddler and he lost his mother at 7. You know you could come out and clean to the boy, you know. It might do wonders for…"

"Absolutely not," Cronus snarled.

Anderson let out a huff and rolled his eyes in disgust. "Then don't be so judgmental on his emotional state. You're 95% the cause of it."

Cronus waved a dismissive hand at him. "Why don't you just relax back there, write your little notes and let me teach the boy how to fly a plane."

"Who do you have on his wing?"

Cronus flicked on a communications switch to a secondary aircraft. "Lieutenant, how's is the Cessna looking from your angle?"

A chirpy youthful voice of a man in his mid-twenties responded. "Kid's doing alright from this viewpoint, Colonel. Can't say the same for the plane, looks like he's carrying some extra weight in there."

Anderson's attention was immediately stroked by that comment. "Ask him what that means."

Cronus shook his head. "The plane Mark's in has a specific weight capacity. She was retrofitted with so much surveillance and monitoring shit that it can handle one person only. If you've sent him in there with anything I don't know about, then you need to let me know now so we can compensate for it to bring him home."

Anderson shook his head. "I told him to take nothing but his bag of skittles on board with him." He flicked open the communications line. "Mark, this is Anderson. Tell me, did you bring anything extra on board with you today?"

Mark's brow furrowed. "No. Sir. I didn't even bring the bag of skittles." He gritted his teeth as the plane rolled awkwardly to one side and he battled to control it. "Is there something wrong with the plane?"

"No. No, Mark. Don't worry about it. I'm just running though my checklist here."

Mark had to let out a laugh. "Shouldn't you have done that when I was on the ground?"

Cronus chuckled as Anderson grunted. "Little smartass."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?"

Cronus flicked open the comms line again. "Okay, Mark. Your girl seems to be banking hard to the left. You need to try to hold her horizontal by toggling your rudder pedals to find your friction point. Are you feeling any resistance in the rudder controls?"

Mark kept his eyes on the horizon. "No, Sir. All controls feel and seem to be functioning normally." He let out a strained grunt. "She wants to dive, Sir. I'm having trouble keeping her vertical."

"Just hold on to her while we do some trouble shooting down here, Kid." Cronus rubbed his chin. He leaned forward to communicate with the wingman. "Lieutenant, look over that plane for me. She's sluggish and looks to want to dance left. Check the tail for me, will you. See if there's anything important missing – if you get my drift."

Anderson really didn't like the sound of that. "Just what are we looking at here?"

"Honestly, John. You don't want to know."

"Fuck."

Cronus had to laugh. "I don't think I've ever heard you utter a profanity in all our years of friendship."

"Yeah, well you weren't around for a lot of it."

The Lieutenant's voice chirped over the speakers. "Colonel. The plane is in better condition than mine. I can't see a scratch on it, let alone anything seriously wrong. Only thing I can suggest is she's overloaded, at least a hundred, hundred and fifty pounds."

"Ten-four, Lieutenant." He watched Mark struggle on the monitor and hissed a question at the man standing behind him. "What new toy did you add to that plane, John?"

Anderson shook his head. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." He caught a flash of movement on the monitor behind Mark's shoulder. "Oh no. This is not …" He leaned over Cronus' shoulder and flicked open the comms line. "Mark. Did you invite Jason on board with you?"

Mark looked absolutely stunned by the accusation. "No. Why would I do something like that? Jason's at the track with Tiny, isn't he?"

Cronus snarled. "That girl probably hitched a ride with him."

"No," Anderson breathed as he focused tighter on the image before him. "Princess has been on retreat in the Himalayas for the last three weeks. She's had no contact with any of the boys in that time."

"Three weeks, you say?"

He didn't pick up on the relevance. "Yeah. She's back in a couple of months."

He pointed his hand at the monitor. "Did you happen to tell Ihim/I she'd be back?"

"I figured that went without saying, Cronus."

Cronus shook his head. "Shit the kid probably thinks you sent her away never to come back. No wonder he's been a freaking yo-yo."

The relevance and realization seemed to arrive with the word "yo-yo". He all but palmed his forehead and said "Doh".

"Okay, Cronus. I'll worry about that later, right now we have a bigger problem to deal with."

Cronus flicked the comms switch. "Mark. Do me a favour and look back over your shoulder. Looks like you have a stowaway and we want to know who it is."

His brow flicked. Before he had a chance to speak, however, two faces appeared over his shoulders – one to the left, the other to the right.

Jason's voice was the one to cry out a startling "Boo!"

Both Anderson and Cronus let out simultaneous "Shit!" exclamations.

"I'll fucking kill them," Cronus grunted in complete aggravation. "Slow and painful. Jason first."

"Death later," Anderson Barked. "Mark, tell those two to sit down and stay still. We're going to bring you in to the closest airfield."

Mark didn't seem worried, nor did he seem incredibly interested. He shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

"Cronus," Anderson warned. "Bring my boys in safe, okay?"

"Yes pa-pa," he seethed through his teeth. "Right Mark, your transponder should be able to pick up the airfield at your grand dad's old place. They installed the autopilot on that thing, so switch her on and let the plane take you to a landing pattern. The runway might be bumpy, but you're better on a rough road on the ground than you are in the air."

"Okay."

"Dump some fuel, okay, kid?" He suggested as he flicked on an open line to his lieutenant. "You got your ears on Frank?"

"Yeah, Colonel. You getting' him down?"

"Trying to." He checked the radar for nearby air traffic and let out a sigh of relief to find the airspace clear. "Keep on him, Lieutenant. If you see anything go wrong on her body that I need to know about, you let me know."

"Ten-four."

Anderson paced behind Cronus and began chewing on his nail. "I'll nail those little bastards to the wall, I swear it," he muttered under his breath. "They were supposed to be taking defensive driving this afternoon. Not taking a joyride with Mark."

"Chill, John," Cronus muttered before calling to Mark again. "Tell me, Kid. How is the plane when you drop the nose?"

"If I drop the nose," Mark answered, "She wants to dive. I have to take this real slow if I want to do this safe. Are you sure you want me to dump the fuel?"

"Unless you want to explode on impact, it is preferable, Mark."

"Okay."

"Before you toggle the fuel release, Kid. Check how much you have. With your extra cargo you've probably used more than we expected."

Mark's lips pursed guiltily. "Ahh, yeah. Okay. Uh."

"What?"

Mark offered a look to suggest he'd done bad. "Too late?" His eyes widened in fright as she plane jolted and the propeller sputtered in front. "Oh dear."

"Not what I want to hear, Mark," Cronus grunted. "What's the problem?"

Mark, Jason and Tiny all stared at the nose of the plane as the propeller suddenly stopped dead. Mark's lips were tightly pursed as his eyes slowly shifted back to the camera. "Tell me, Sir. Have you ever flown a glider?"

The lieutenant's voice cracked over the line. "Looks like the engine just died, Colonel."

Anderson was horrified. "What?! Cronus, do something!"

Cronus seemed remarkably calm, although the waver in his voice suggested he wasn't. "What's your altitude, Mark?"

"fifteen-hundred."

"Shit, too high," Cronus moaned as he tapped his teeth in thought. "Look, Mark. She's going to come down hard, so you need to listen to me real carefully if you want to survive this. We can slow your ascent to try and land her relatively safely."

"Okay."

He looked at Anderson. "Does Mark have any other words in his vocabulary than just okay?"

"He's listening, Cronus, just talk him down."

"Right, Mark. We did this in the simulator with a jet. Do you remember that?" At Mark's nod he opened an online communication to emergency personnel near the airfield and began to tap in information to them. "I need you to pull on the rudder, and bring her in sideways."

"Sideways, Sir?"

He held up his hand to the camera to indicate what position the plane needed to be in. " Wing down almost vertical to the ground. You want to slide her in and use the wind resistance to slow your plane down."

Mark looked back at his passengers and ordered them to strap in. He returned his focus to Cronus' image on the monitor. "Sideways, got it."

"This is gonna scare the shit out of you, boy, but if you time it right you'll get her down okay."

He nodded and shifted his head to the side window as he guided the plane to its side. Even he had to admit the sight of the ground rushing up at their side window was horrifying. "I think I have the angle right."

An affirmative from the Lieutenant gave Cronus the breath to continue. "Altright. At about 150 feet, you need to turn her out of it and get your nose up. You're equipment might be fooled by this position so you leave it up to your own instinct."

Mark did his best to ignore the wails of his passengers as he kept his eyes on the ground quickly approaching. He shook off a feeling of vertigo and narrowed his eyes to concentrate. "300. 250. 200. 150." He let out a strained cry of effort and battled with the controls to get the plane level. He yanked back hard on the yoke to raise the nose.

"Damn," Cronus breathed in awe. "I think the kid's going to actually pull this off. Lieutenant?"

"Touchdown, Sir. Damn, the kid nailed it!"

The image on the monitor of the movement in the cockpit suggested differently. The runway had been out of use for almost a decade, so the terrain was far more than the small plane could handle. There was a sudden yelp, a crash, and the image turned to snow.

Anderson leaned over Cronus and frantically pressed the on-off button. "Mark. Mark! Dammit Cronus, what happened?"

The lieutenant answered the question before Cronus could process it.

"Colonel. It flipped. The kid got it down in a picture perfect touchdown, but that damn runway is so broken the wheels got caught in the cracks." There was a short second of silence. "You might want to call those emergency teams. The plane is on it's roof and is in bad shape."

"How are the boys?"

"You don't just walk away from a wreck like that, Sir."

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Cronus clutched at his hair hard enough to snap a few of the grayer strands. "I can't do this, John."

Anderson poked his finger into the table with a snarl as he waited for any word from the emergency teams at the crash site. His eyes were still on the snowy monitor ahead of them. "Do what, Cronus?"

"I can't send a thirteen year old up in the air. Give him to me when he's eighteen."

Anderson rolled his eyes and tilted the receiver to his mouth as he questioned the dispatcher about the situation at the crash site. When done talking to her, he slid the phone from his mouth. "Mark did fine."

"No," Cronus argued. "He crashed the plane – with two other people on board."

"In his defence," Anderson countered, "he didn't know they were there."

Cronus pushed himself to a stand. "Which is precisely the reason that we shouldn't give children access to expensive and dangerous weaponry and vehicles." He waved a hand and began to stalk and pace. "They're all loose cannons at that age, John. You can't control them, fuck, IGod/I can't control them. But what do Iyou/I do? You give them a damn gun and the keys to a plane."

Anderson's head tilted in aggression. "If I recall correctly, you were the one insistent that we put Mark in the air."

Cronus snorted.

"You also have to admit that your son far exceeded any expectation you had of his ability to keep a level head in crisis and do what needs to be done. He got the plane down …"

"Crashed the plane."

"No, the runway crashed the plane." Anderson grunted at the music on hold and began to pace beside Cronus. "If Mark'd had a decent runway to touch down on it would have been a perfect landing."

"And I suppose you are the flight trainer here with absolute and intimate knowledge of avionics."

Anderson offered his friend an incredulous look. "Don't be a brat. Jesus, Cronus, sometimes I think that boy has more maturity than you do."

"Are they okay?"

Anderson didn't comment on the abrupt change in conversation, instead he snapped his attention to the phone and mumbled "uh-huh" and "yes" a few times. With a long and relieved breath he disconnected the call and pressed his hands onto the desktop. "They're alive."

"In what condition?"

Anderson let his head swing to look at Cronus. "Tiny and Jason have broken bones but are conscious. Mark …" He let out a breath. "Mark's unconscious. His vitals are present and strong, but they won't be able to determine his condition until they bring them back here."

"Here? It's a two hour drive."

Anderson nodded. "Yes, here. He's being airlifted as we speak and should be onsite in thirty to forty-five minutes."

"Send him to the hospital down there," Cronus demanded. "The boy could have a serious head injury. Don't waste time having him transported here."

Anderson pursed his lips and shook his head. He let his eyes rise to the monitor. "I can't, old friend."

Cronus narrowed his eyes and growled. "What, you're not paid up on your medical or something, John?"

Anderson tapped at his head with his finger. "The implant, Cronus. The second he goes in they put him in the cat scan." He let out a breath and inhaled slowly. "This is a top secret operation. I can't risk it."

"But you'll risk the lives of the kids?"

Anderson tried to keep his temper cool. "I don't have a choice." He fisted the desk. "Dammit!"

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The arrival of the three injured boys caused more of a flurry than any other incident within the building in its history. The heli-pad alone had a crowd of technicians, medical, security and board personnel, which hampered the landing of the helicopter until Anderson was finally able to clear many of them off. Before the propellers slowed he found himself trying to rip the doors off the side of the craft to get to his kids.

Tiny screamed in pain and thrashed against anyone that tried to administer any form of medical aid. Jason tried hard to control himself, but cracks were evident, the young boy was in considerable pain. Jason seemed far more concerned with Mark, who lay still on a gurney, and demanded with a wince and a moan that someone wake him up and to make sure he was okay.

Anderson crawled into the helicopter and individually offered comfort to his boys with a parental touch on the arm, leg or wherever wasn't hurting. Jason, while obviously in extreme pain, shook him off. "Mark," he moaned. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"I'll find out, Jason," he promised as he pushed through the throng to look over the young pilot. Mark's skin was white and his expression strangely serene. His eyes were closed, and his mouth parted just slightly. He could tell the youngster was breathing by the intermittent fogging of the oxygen mask over his face. He held on to his hand and looked up at a medic. "What's the prognosis?"

The young medic, a lad only in his early twenties, gave a small nod. "Worst case scenario is that he may have knocked that chip out of place and damaged something in his brain. Best – a concussion. Aside from that, Mark's only got a couple of bruises."

"When can we get him in the scan?"

The medic looked up at his superior and back at Anderson. "As soon as we can get him out of the helicopter. He's stable and his readings are quite promising. We did have him conscious for a few minutes on the way back/" He pushed a clipboard into Anderson's hand. "He was asking about that little one, the girl."

Anderson frowned. "Princess?"

He nodded. "First time I've ever heard him call her that, actually. He thinks she was on the plane with them."

Anderson shifted to one side to let the medics slide Mark's gurney out of the helicopter. "That must've been shock talking. He knows she's off base."

"Well you might want to assure him of that when he wakes. He was pretty upset that he might have hurt her." He flicked his hand in a request for the clipboard and slid out of the vehicle himself. "The pair of them are close, right?"

Anderson nodded.

"Then try and get her back here. If he's worse case, he'll need that pretty little face to cheer him up."


	6. Chapter 6

Princess was glad to be home. She was surprised to have been brought back from Tibet two months ahead of schedule, but was thankful to be able to put on a skirt and sandals after spending nearly a month dressed in animal skins and movement-restricting thick pants and headdress to keep warm up the mountain.

Oh it was cold over there.

She tousled out the knots in her hair as she skipped down the corridor of her facility home. In her backpack, which she looped on only one shoulder, she had gifts for everyone. There was some yak jerky meats and set of horns for Tiny, a soft pair of yak leather driving gloves for Jason, a furry animal skin hat for Keyop, a specially crafted secrets box with good luck papers in it for Anderson, and a jade carving of a protective dragon for Mark.

She felt kind of silly bringing home only souvenirs from Tibet, but she was only on layover in Anchorage for forty five minutes, which didn't allow her to do much more than buy a few packets of skittles and separate all of the orange ones for Mark. Twenty dollars on the candies, and she'd managed to make a pretty impressive bag full of only orange – the rest of the colours she nibbled on during the flight home.

Her time with the Buddhist Monks had been wonderful. With all of her strive and pushing and hard work with her brothers, having some time to just herself in absolute silence had been so energizing. She was so ready to utilize much of her newly developed meditation and mediation skills in her training.

A head-load of ideas swam in her mind as she skipped through the hallway in search of her adopted father. Like with the boys, she'd been out of touch with him for the entire time she was away, so she was looking forward to giving him his gift and regaling him with the stories she had about her trip. Her excitement faltered, however, as she caught sight of Tiny and Jason lurking at the end of the corridor.

Jason was on crutches with one leg casted from ankle to thigh. He had a bandage down one arm and stitches across one brow. Tiny was in a wheelchair with one arm bent and casted and a leg set much like Jason's. He had a bandage around his head and watched intently as Jason used a marker to draw a skull and crossbones image on the cast on his arm.

She let out a gasp and dropped her backpack to run to them. "Oh my goodness. Jason, Tiny, what happened?"

Tiny looked up with a large grin. "Cassie! You're back!"

Jason handed her the marker and pointed down at Tiny's cast. "Welcome back, Cass. We thought you'd had enough of us and left."

She frowned and shook her head. "No. Mr. Anderson sent me to Tibet to study. I wasn't supposed to be back for another couple of months."

Jason's brow flicked. "Oh?"

Her hand shook as she took the pen and capped it. "He brought me back early for some emergency." Her eyes flicked between the pair. "What happened?"

Tiny blushed and looked to the floor. "Oh. We got into a little bit of trouble."

Jason smirked. "Yeah. We hitched a ride with Mark on his plane and …" he made a plane shape with his hand and whistled as he flew his hand-plane downward. He made a crash sound and then laughed. "Helluva ride."

Her eyes were wide and horrified. "Mark?"

Tiny pursed his lips and shifted in the chair. "He's okay, Cassie. He's under observation in Med."

She brought her hands to her mouth in horror. "He's in medical?" Her eyes shifted to Jason. "What happened, Jason? Is Mark going to be okay? Is he hurt?"

Jason shrugged. "He's shook up, that's all."

Tiny agreed. "He had the shoulder-harness on, we didn't. He got through the crash with only a bump on the head."

She pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes flared and she set her jaw as if to give them hell. "Let me guess. You weren't supposed to be there."

The both answered with only a shrug and smirk.

She let out a grunt. "I hope you got into trouble. That was a silly thing to do."

Jason let out a laugh. "Oh come on, Cassie. If you'd been here I bet you woulda tagged along."

"Would not," she countered sharply.

"Oh would too," Jason laughed. "Anything to be with Mark. Markey-Mark-Mark."

She gasped at the way he sang Mark's name and blushed. "Stop teasing me."

He made kissing sounds as he nudged Tiny with his elbow. "Mark's little Princess."

Her eyes narrowed and she stamped her foot on the floor as her fists dropped to her side. "I'll take away your crutches if you don't stop."

"I can hop," he challenged.

She leaned forward to bring her face closer to his. "Not if I break the other leg."

Jason's brows shot skyward at her threat. "Nice, Cassie," he purred. "Good to see the monks didn't make you soft." He draped an arm around her shoulder. "Glad you're back."

She shirked out of his hold at the sound of Anderson's voice down the corridor.

"Princess, you're back."

She squealed and skipped to him – picking up her backpack along the way. "I missed you!" she squeaked as she threw herself at him for a hug.

"Glad to hear it. Was your flight pleasant?"

She slumped. "Boring."

Anderson's eyes shifted up to the pair in the hallway. "I don't suppose everyone can have a thrilling ride, now, can they?" Tiny and Jason immediately looked away and began to whistle innocently. "Aren't the two of you supposed to be scrubbing a toilet or something?"

Tiny rubbed at the back of his head. "Ahh, yeah. We were, on break."

"Well," Anderson sang as he swept his hand toward the hallway. "Break is over. You can catch up with Princess later." He put his hand on her shoulder. "Come on young lady, we have a patient who needs to see his little sister."

Princess gave them both a girlish wave and wink as she flicked a hip to follow behind Anderson. She dragged her bag along the floor as they walked. "Is Mark okay?"

"He will be."

"Is this why you brought me home?"

"Partly," he added softly. "But mostly because we all missed your smile around here."

She giggled and wrapped herself around his arm as they walked. "Let me guess. Keyop won't sleep, is crying lots, and you don't know what to do."

Anderson actually laughed. "A month was all we could handle." He looked down his arm at her. "You have a gift with the boys in here, what can I say?"

She stepped out from him and held his fingers to do a little pirouette. She giggled as they walked. "Oh I missed you all so much." She walked backwards down the hallway and held on to one of his hands with both of hers. "I have so many stories to tell you. Oh, and presents. I brought you all presents."

Anderson had a smile when he finally stopped them both in the doorway to Mark's room. He crouched down beside her and pointed inside. "I think he missed you too."

Princess tilted her head and looked into the room with a mixture of happiness and worry. Mark was laying on his side with his back to the wall. He wore only one sock and his pyjama pants were skewed and twisted in what had to be an uncomfortable manner. His blanket was in a heap on the floor, a heap within which her five year-old brother, Keyop, was currently napping in.

"Keyop's been by his side since Friday," Anderson said quietly. "We can't get him to leave the room."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "So you want me to take him to his room?"

Anderson shook his head. "Later, Princess. Right now I want you to go and say hi to him."

She followed his gaze to Mark's back and tilted her head at him. Her little face creased in sympathy and she sighed. "Poor Mark." She crouched down and removed the little jade dragon and bag of orange skittles from her backpack. "Thanks, Mr. Anderson."

Without a further word she slipped quietly into the room and warily approached Mark. She gave him a quick and quiet once-over and knelt on the mattress to lean over his side.

Mark swatted at her. Not now, Keyop. I'm tired."

She smiled and dangled the bag in front of him. "Too tired for orange skittles, Mark?"

His eyes flew open at her voice and he quickly rolled onto his back. The roll was forceful enough that Princess ended up falling across his hips. She giggled insanely as she stumbled to pick herself but up to her knees.

"Cassie," he barked in absolute disbelief. "You're back?"

She grinned with closed eyes and shrugged shoulders. "Of course I am. Did you miss me?"

He pulled her into an aggressive and tight hug. "Yes. Yes I missed you. I thought you'd left and weren't coming back."

She gave a theatrical groan and cupped his chin in her hands to stare him playfully in the eyes. "Why would you think something silly like that?" She flicked her chin down to Keyop. "He needs me. I can't leave."

"I thought …" he looked away sheepishly. "You know. The people I love always leave."

She wriggled backward and sat cross-legged on the end of his bed. "I don't leave the ones I love, Mark." She tossed the bag of skittles into his hand. "You're my family."

"All of us?"

She nodded.

"Even Jason?"

She slouched and groaned with a roll of her eyes. "Even Jason." She waggled her hand at the bag. "Catch them in your mouth. I love it when you do that."

He grinned and winked as he took a small handful and began to flick them upward with his thumb. "I tried to teach this to Keyop."

"Oh? And?"

He chuckled. "Couldn't catch one."

She smiled and slouched with her elbows inside her lap. "So I heard you had an adventure." She sighed and looked up dreamily. "I can't believe I missed your first flight. That must have been aweeeomeee."

He stopped flicking his skittles and seemed to droop. "I failed, Cass."

"That's not what I heard," she lied softly. "I was told you did really good."

He shook his head. "No, Cass. How can I do good if on my first time up there and I crash the plane."

She rocked a little from side to side in an airy-fairy girlie manner. "Accidents happen, Mark. You didn't kill anyone." She bit on her bottom lip. "I heard that Mr. Anderson was proud of you."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Yes, really." She swooned a little. "I wish I could have seen it."

"Jason and Tiny got hurt, though."

She chuckled into her hand. "They thought it was fun."

He gave her an incredulous look. "Are you serious?"

She nodded, and then let out a squeal as Keyop woke and launched himself at her. "Hey little guy. Did you miss me?"

"Yes. Yes." He stammered as he snatched the skittles from Mark's hand and attempted to flick them into his mouth.

She giggled and looked back at Mark, who wore a big smile on his face. "So, can you tell me what happened? I want to hear it all."

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Anderson seemed pleased as he watched the sudden change in Mark, and the friendly recounting of the story.

Cronus was not pleased at all. "That girl outright lied to him."

"Not really," Anderson challenged. "The both of us are pretty impressed with his flight, sans the crash of course."

Cronus pointed through the window at Princess. "But she didn't know that."

"But she knows him, and she knows what he needs to hear to push through his own defeat."

Cronus let out a cough. "She's eleven years old. How can she know anything?"

"Twelve months of Psych analysis classes. Cronus, the girl is intelligent." He spoke proudly of his precious find. "I've never encountered someone like her."

"Neither has Mark, apparently." At Anderson's shrug he let out a long breath of annoyance. "You've gotten the boy too reliant on her."

"They all rely heavily on each other, Cronus. It is the basis of any good team."

Cronus shook his head and turned his back to the glass to lean on it and hopefully remove Anderson's attention to the scene playing out on the bed. "It's unhealthy."

Anderson tilted his head in askance. "Why?"

"If and when they finally get out there and fight, and something happens to her, or him, or any of the others? What then?"

Anderson's eyes widened quickly, but he said nothing.

"You hear me, I know it. Mark is so damn dependent on her presence and her assurance everything is all hunky-dory. Hell, she was gone three weeks and he turned into a woman himself." He flicked his eyes at the trio on the bed. "He's a thirteen year old who can't survive without a little girl's complete and utter devotion. You lose her on a mission, and what becomes of him?"

"It's too early to determine what will happen once the team is put into active service. He'll be an adult when that happens."

"A sheltered adult, John.," he argued. "You've had these kids locked up for their training and schooling. They have no contact outside and therefore nothing else to turn to when the going gets rough. All you're doing is weakening them."

Anderson grunted. "You aren't a psychologist, Cronus."

"No. I'm a human being. When I lost my wife and kid, I had something else to hang on to, to get me through the rough shit." He flicked his hand over his shoulder. "These kids don't have that, and it's dangerous."

"So what are you suggesting?"

Cronus stepped back beside Anderson and folded his arms across his chest. "Get them out in the real world. Show them what they're really fighting for; the good, the bad, and the ugly. Integrate them into school or something to make friends and stop being so needy of each other."

Anderson let out a long cleansing breath as he tried to find an argument against Cronus' reasoning. Unfortunately he had to admit that he was right – Aside from potential security hazards, these kids really did need to get out and learn what it meant to be kids, and what it was to be human.

"You're right," he muttered finally. "I can't believe I'm actually admitting it, but you're right."

"Of course I am," he muttered arrogantly. "He's my kid, I know what's best for him."

Anderson rolled his eyes in disgust and held back the retort on his tongue. "I'll enroll them in school for the Fall."

"Trust me, John. This is for the best, and those kids – al of them – need it." He smirked. "Maybe Jason will get the devil beaten out of him in the schoolyard."

"Or he'll get worse, Cronus. This plan could go either way, but I'm going to trust your instinct on this."

"It'll work, trust me."

Anderson gave a short nod as Cronus marched out, whistling a self appreciating tune. His gaze fell back on the laughing threesome on the bed. He would most definitely enroll them in classed for the coming school year.

Cronus was right … They needed to lose their dependence on each other and find their own way and life outside of the team.

He shook his head as he walked silently out of the room and into the hallway.

That bastard was right …

Damn that arrogant asshole!


	7. Chapter 7

School wasn't exactly everything Mark had been expecting. Eighteen months in to the transition between home schooling and the public system, and he was still finding trouble adjusting.

Initially the four of them had been excited about moving from their small and intimate learning group into the larger world of classrooms and playgrounds. Princess had been especially excited. She swooned for hours over being able to make some friends – girl friends – and having slumber parties and all other things "girlie". Jason's thrill was close to the same, although his idea of a girlfriend and slumber parties were far different to Princess'.

Mark, himself, was intrigued about being able to learn more about the world outside of their group. He wasn't looking to make friends and dating girls – hell, he was only 13 at the time – but the idea that he could analyze and learn more about the world through experience rather than a book, was most definitely appealing.

How fast their worlds came crashing down on that first day at public school.

Because of their months of birth, they'd been spread into two different grades. Jason and Mark ended up in grade 9, with Tiny being slotted within the eighth grade. Princess made it into the eighth grade because of some manipulation of her age by Anderson. When she found out she was to be put in a different school than the boys entirely, she had sobbed and begged him to do something to keep her with them. He conceded only because he couldn't deny those large green eyes when they full of tears.

It was hard for all of them to not only be separated into different grades and classes, but to suddenly be one of thirty students in each class. Their ability for one-on-one learning was gone, and with their social skills being stunted through years inside an institution with only adults, making friends was not so easy.

… Making enemies, however, was a piece of cake.

Mark ran his finger underneath his nose to scratch it as he tried to shake the thoughts of his latest bout with bullies in order to complete the latest English assignment from the wicked witch of the schoolyard. He didn't understand for a second why he had to do this "extra credit" essay, or why it would impact his grade to ignore it - He was an "A" student. He most certainly didn't feel it particularly fair that of the five individuals fighting, that he was the only one to be handed such a punishment.

Of course he had lashed out and defended himself. Four boys, all of whom were on the school football team and looking for the geek of the day to destroy, had accosted him. What was he supposed to do, stand there and take the beating?

He stabbed his pen into his desktop and grunted. "God I hate school."

Jason's voice agreed from the doorway. "You got that right."

Mark looked up as Jason slid across the floor in his socks toward his desk. "Do we really have to do this five days a week?"

Jason whipped a bag of Doritos from beside the keyboard and flopped down onto Mark's bed. He grabbed the TV remote and aimed it at the TV. "Heard you got into a scuffle today."

"Scuffle?" Mark questioned gruffly. "What kind of word is scuffle? It was a fight."

Jason shrugged. "That's how I heard Anderson describe it to the President." His hand flicked as he pressed the button on the remote to channel surf. "Seems that we have to be good little boys at school or they call Kane."

"No," Mark corrected. "They call Anderson's secretary and she feeds the information to Kane."

"What, is she looking for a promotion?"

Mark shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that Anderson tore me a new one and now I have to write an essay on bullying and fighting in the schoolyard."

"So what happened?"

Mark leaned back in his chair and swiveled it side to side. "Moose and his slack-jawed jock friends cornered me in the stands." He sighed. "They started on me, so I fought back."

Jason let out a laugh. "Oh, crap. Tell me you destroyed them."

"Moose won't be suiting up this weekend, but the other three should be okay to play." His brow raised at Jason's smirk. "Hey, I didn't touch them at all, he was the one who punched the bleacher support, and then missed the second third and forth throws to punch his friends." He flicked the pen at the wall and slid his hands into his pockets as he fell in to a slouch. "Anderson is upset because he feels that I shouldn't have … oh how did he say it … dodged every attack so fluidly."

"In other words, take a hit and look like a pussy."

Mark shrugged and rolled his eyes with a nod. "Something like that."

"Don't blow our cover," Jason boomed facetiously. "Even though you don't know why we're training you like we are, you can't blow your cover."

Mark raised a brow at him, but let out a laugh. "I heard you destroyed the school training vehicle in Driver's Ed. today."

Jason raised his hand in his own defence. "Oh, so not my fault. I'm so used to driving my car here, that I didn't realize that cheap piece of crap couldn't handle the ride." He dropped his hands and smirked. "And it isn't destroyed at all. All I did was put a rod through the engine – which will only help the mechanical workshop kids learn something new when they fix it."

Mark slouched further down the chair and crossed his legs at the ankle. "Have you seen Cassie, today?"

Jason shook his head. "Nah. She was supposed to be in the gym with me this afternoon for spin training. She didn't show up."

Mark snapped his head to Jason and narrowed his eyes. "That's unlike her."

Jason popped open his bag of Doritos. "I figured she was either doing something with you or dealing with Keyop on some emergency."

"Okay."

Jason crammed about five Doritos in his mouth at once and chewed loudly with an open mouth. "Hey, you notice that since we've been doing the school thing that our training times have decreased big-time?"

"Well, yeah. We're off site at school. Then we have homework and sports and recitals and all that other crap to focus on instead." He sighed. "Last year at Parent-Teacher Anderson got grief for not involving us enough in after-school activities. He had no choice in it when Kane heard about it."

Jason emptied the bag into his mouth. "I'm itching to do simulation, man. Want to go sneak in to the sims room?"

"Wish I could." He commiserated. "I was supposed to log 15 hours on the jet simulator for the week, and I've managed only three."

Jason flicked the bag off the side of the bed and sucked the flavour off his fingers. "We need to do something, Mark. We haven't been together as a team in three weeks."

"I know," he answered softly before quickly gasping at the sound of Princess crying as she ran into the room and threw herself on the bed. "Cass?"

She wailed as she landed on top of Jason, who immediately yelped and wriggled out from underneath her. His movements were enough to topple her off the side of the bed so that she was on her knees with her face in her arms on Mark's mattress. This wasn't a gentle weeping of a girl chided, or even the crying of a little girl who might have banged her knee. This was the sobbing wail of someone who had just lost her best friend.

Mark was immediately on his knees beside her. "Cassie. Cassie, what's wrong?"

She cried harder when she felt his hand rub at her back. "They took it," she mumbled into the duvet. "They took it."

Jason crawled across the bed and lay on his stomach to get closer. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Cass, who took what? Tell me who and what, because I'll kill them and get it back for you."

She raised tear-sodden eyes to him and inhaled shakily. "Will you? Promise?"

"You bet I will."

"Good," she whined. "Because … because …" she dropped her head back into her arms and began to sob heavily. Her entire body heaved with each sob. "I hate them. I hate them."

Mark really didn't like this. He'd seen her cry before, plenty of times, but never to this extent. It broke his heart to see her reduced to such a blubbering mess. He tugged to draw her into his arms. "It's okay, Princess. Just tell us what they took and how to get it back, and we will."

She clutched onto his shirt and sobbed into it. "My dad gave it to me, Mark. How could they take it from me?"

His eyes flashed open and he looked up at Jason. "The yo-yo?"

"It's all I have left of them," she sobbed.

Jason cursed low. "Who took it, Cass? I mean it when I say I'll kill them. I'll Kill them and tie them to the flagpole."

She sobbed and clutched harder at Mark's shirt. "They said they'd destroy it." Her soggy eyes rose to Mark's. "Put it in the fire." Her face screwed up and she shook her head. "They can't do that. They can't."

Mark smoothed her hair off her face and winced at the thought of them casting her beloved yo-yo into the fire. He let the corner of his eye twitch in throught and offered a dangerous smile to Jason. "You wanted to do some Sims, Jase. How about we go full-scale?"

Jason's brows rose and his leaned on his forearms. "Oh. I'm all for whatever you want to do."

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Mark pressed his back up against the wall and peered covertly around the corner. He saw two security guards sharing a talk and a coffee in front of the door to the computer room and looked back at Jason, Princess and Tiny. He pointed to his eyes, held up two fingers, and then pointed at Tiny and Jason and swept it in the direction of the guards in a silent order.

Both boys gave a short nod. Tiny removed his shirt and threw it to Jason, who curled a lip and snickered. He turned on his heel and let out a yell as he took off, with Tiny bellowing profanities behind him.

Princess gasped and held her hands to her mouth to stifle a giggle at the two boys thundering down the hallway. Jason feigned a stumble and managed to knock into one of the guards hard enough to force him to stumble into the other to spill coffee over them both. Jason muttered an apology and kept going as Tiny barrelled through them in chase.

The guards swore, cursed, and then abandoned their post to go clean up.

"Great," Mark chirped as he flicked his hand in a request for Princess to follow him. "I need you to get into the city's database and pull up the schematics for the school."

She nodded and checked the hallway before she ran into the computer room. "Will we get into trouble, Mark?"

He took up position behind her as she took a seat and put his hands on her shoulders. "I'll take the fall if we get caught, Cass. Just be quick, please?"

She nodded and began to work her way out of the Federation networks to break into the planning department servers. "How long have I got?"

"I'm not sure how long, Cass. Just be as fast as you can."

"No pressure," she sighed as her fingers flew over the keyboard.

Jason was laughing when he strolled into the room with his arm draped over Tiny's shoulder. "Man. I did not know you could run that fast, big guy."

Tiny grunted with a smirk. "Hey, I was takin' my time, Jase. Had to make it look good."

Mark rolled his head to address them both. "Inventive, Tiny. Well done."

"Hey," he muttered as he straightened his shirt. "I still can't believe that Jason knew what I had in mind."

"Well I didn't think you were giving me the shirt to play I'll show you mine …"

Mark snickered. "Crass."

Princess let out a little squeal. "Got it, Commander."

"Commander?" Jason questioned. "Since when was he boss?"

Her eyes narrowed in a playful smile. "Since he took charge of this mission." She pointed to a large glass screen ahead of them. "I've put the schematics up there, Mark. What are we going to do?"

Mark stepped up to the screen and circled his finger at the main office area inside the middle of the facility. "Cassandra, is this where they have your yo-yo?"

She tapped on the computer to zoom in the image. " I believe so, Mark. During detention…"

"Detention," Jason barked. "You got detention?"

She nodded. "One of the girls tried to steal it from me in the hallway and I fought back for it. I got caught by the Principal sweeping her feet out from under her. Obviously I got detention."

Mark groaned. "The school is going to think we're all unstable." He shook off the thought and focused on the image. He touched the screen to flick the image to a 3d model. "What, exactly, do you know about the whereabouts of the yo-yo?"

She rose from the seat and approached the screen. She moved her finger along the screen to traverse them through the building to a classroom. "I was held in here for an hour by the principal. She told me that she was doing to take it to the vault of confiscation." She swept them in the office to a small alcove beside the photocopy room. "Rumour has the vault in around here."

Mark turned his head to Jason. "What do you think?"

Jason nodded and circled his finger over the duct work schematics. "I've heard the same rumours as Cassie. One of the guys in Chem class said he got back a cherry bomb from the vault by going in through here. There's a security camera void underneath this vent. It's only about five metres from the vault door."

"What about the hallways?"

Tiny grunted. "I had to do security detail in there after that food fight in the lunch room. I know there are three security guards on site at all times. One to patrol each wing of the school." He drew his finger along the glass to expand and display a single wing of the complex. "It takes around thirty minutes for them to complete the sweep. All guards carry a tazer and nightstick, but no actual firearms."

"Is there a set time for each sweep?"

Tiny shook his head. "Not when I was on shift, Mark."

Mark rubbed at his chin. "Okay, team. Have we memorized the layout, or do you need more time?"

Jason slapped his shoulder. "We're there thirty-five hours a week, Mark. If we haven't got it all in our minds now, we may as well quit."

Mark gave a nod. "Right. Cassie shut it down and clear the cache, I don't want anyone getting wind of this."

"Yes, Commander."

He turned to Jason. "We need transport. I don't want to pedal out there, so how about you secure us a vehicle from the garage?"

Jason pursed his lips. "Employee or Federation stock?"

"Federation," he said firmly. "No need to bring attention to ourselves by stealing someone's car."

He slapped Tiny's chest with the back of his hand. "Okay, Big Guy. You can be my eyes when I'm under the dash."

Mark took Princess' hand as she affirmed she'd erased any trace of their computer activities and led her to the door. "Cassie and I will gather some supplies for when we're inside. We'll meet at the delivery entrance in, say, ten?"

"Big ten, Mark."

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Mark could hardly believe his eyes when Jason showed up with a jet back Ford F150 King Ranch Supercrew vehicle. He found himself having to check that the occupants were Tiny and Jason, and not a security guard who'd caught them in the garage. When he and Princess took up position in the captain's seating in the rear he shook his head.

"You don't do anything half-way, do you, Jase? When I said get a car, I meant something a little less in-your-face."

Jason shrugged and adjusted the rearview mirror to be able to look at Mark when he spoke. "Hey, I've been asking them to let me take this thing out since I was 14."

"And you're what, 15?"

He laughed. "And a half, Mark." He looked ahead and floored it. The truck took off with a squeal of tires, and one from Princess. "Damn, Tiny, did you feel her squat before she took off?"

Tiny purred low. "Like a stallion, Jase."

Mark frowned as he held on tight to the small handle on the door. "Jason, man, stop driving like a maniac. Last thing we need after escaping the compound is to get pulled over by the cops. Anderson will skin us all after the day we've already given him."

Jason smirked. "Yeah. But it'd be so worth it, eh."

Tiny nodded. "Oh yeah. Give her some more, Jason."

Jason complied readily and pressed the accelerator to the floor. The V8 engine roared and pressed them all into their seats as the truck sped down the vacant laneway toward the main road. He whooped. "I have GOT to get me one of these when they pick my vehicle. We've gotto be pushing, what, 4 G's?"

"3 at most," Mark growled from the backseat. "And back it off, Jason, or we'll get pulled over."

"Come on, Mark. Live a little."

"I said now."

He grunted, but did as he was told. Princess smiled from her seat beside Mark and set the backpack of supplies on the centre console beside her. "G-Force. You know, that would be a great name for our team tonight."

Jason smirked. "What, you don't like "Anderson's Delinquent Orphan Brats"?"

She giggled. "We could vote on it. "

Tiny played with the CD controls. "If we're looking at team names, how about code names, too. That way when we're in there, if anyone can hear us calling to each other they won't work out that it's us."

Mark nodded. "Good point."

Princess giggled. "Okay. Then how about you all finally call me Princess. I'm used to that name because of Mr. Anderson calls me that." She tipped her ear to her shoulder and looked at Mark. "You're my Commander, so…"

Jason snorted. "I refuse to refer to him as Commander."

"Eagle-1," Mark suggested.

Tiny shrugged. "Works for me. I'll be the Rock."

Jason had to bellow a laugh, that quickly caught as he took a corner a little too tight and fish-tailed back into a straight line. "Shit."

Mark rocked from side-to-side with the violent movement of the vehicle. "Let's go with bird names, they're easier. Cass …"

"Princess," she corrected.

He smiled. "Okay, Princess, you're Swan."

Jason gagged. "Don't even get into why you picked that bird for her, Mark. I'll be the Condor."

"I'll be the owl," Tiny purred. "The night watch. Big. Mean. Deadly accurate."

The truck suddenly and aggressively came to a screeching halt, which threw all but Jason forward in their seats.

"Jesus, Jason," Mark barked. "What the Hell?"

He unclicked his seatbelt. "We're here."

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One thing the foursome had to admit about the school at night, was that it was far more imposing and intimidating than it was during the day. With turn of the century architecture and history, the building had a real hospital feel to it. Each member of the four-man team felt their own little shudder as the main front building loomed down on them.

"Eerie," Princess commented as she rubbed her arms and shrank a little.

Mark crouched on the grass and set the backpack on the ground. He opened it and handed a few items to his team. "Jase. I grabbed you a lock kit, night vision goggles and a BB gun. I may need you sniper in case we encounter anything hostile."

Jason flicked a brow and pulled the goggles over his head and let the unit rest on his forehead. He eyeballed the barrel of the small handgun and checked the magazine. "Keep the shots off the person, right?"

Mark nodded. "Distraction only, Jason. Hit a coffee cup, a hat off their head, or anything that won't result in them needing medical attention."

"Got it, Eagle," he shook his head. "That, I aint gonna get used to saying."

Mark rolled his eyes and passed some items to Tiny. "You, big guy, get the surveillance detector, and emf reader. You are the eyes in the backs of our heads. If you see something we need to dodge away from, tell us."

He tucked them in his pockets. "Got it, Commander."

Princess sat on her knees and looked with wide and excited eyes at Mark. "What did you end up finding for me?"

He held up an iPod unit. "This has a universal hub on it. I know we have things to disable in here, so it's up to you to make sure we don't step into any kinds of traps in there." He held up a small eraser-sized glob. "C-4…"

"Oh no fair," Jason whined. "She got the good stuff."

Mark slid his eyes to him. "She's the explosives expert and is less likely to use too much just to make a bigger bang."

"Are you saying I'm not controlled enough?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"I dunno, I'm thinking someone in charge has a soft spot for the little girl."

She giggled. "Jealous?"

Mark pulled a final handful from the pack. He extended his hand to the centre of the group to display four wristbands. "Here. I saw some of the techs testing these last week. They're like walkie-talkies I think. They'd be handy if we got split up."

All eyes widened and they each too one from Mark. "Wow," Princess purred as she clipped it on her right wrist. As the clasped the lock she felt an entire rush pass from the watch, up into her head, then back down to her feet. The sensation, while not painful, forced her to open her mouth and lean forward onto her hands. As if the final piece of a circuit, she felt her entire body tingle and come to life.

…It felt exhilarating. She moaned softly and opened her eyes to look at the boys.

They all seemed to be feeling the same sensation.

"Wow," Mark breathed with as much breathlessness as if he'd been pleasured.

"I know," Jason agreed. "What is this thing?"

"I don't know," Princess sighed on a high note. "But I never want to take it off." Mark touched her arm and she felt a jolt of sharp electricity shoot through her. The charge was so breathtaking she almost asked him to touch her again. She swallowed hard. "So do we test these things before we go in?"

Mark looked at where his hand had touched her arm and then back up to her face. He could tell simply by her look that she'd felt the same jolt he had. His gaze remained on her as he addressed Jason and Tiny. "Jase. Take Tiny and go through the roof. Open everything up for us and let us know what to watch for. Keep touch on the communicators. Princess and I will take the perimeter and see what unfriendlies are on the ground. We meet at the vault inside 20, okay?"

He received three nods. "We slip into character now," he said finally. "Sound off."

"G-Force Eagle," Mark boomed.

"G-Force Condor," Jason purred. "Ready to rumble."

"G-Force Swan," Princess sang. "Princess."

"G-Force Owl," Tiny bellowed. "Now let's go at it."

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Anderson jumped from the file he was reading as one of their communications technicians burst in through his door.

"Doctor. We're picking up something on the communications broadband. We think this is something you need to hear/"

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Jason strode softly across the gravely surface of the roof to peer over the edge at the long spacing between the buildings. It was a span far too wide to jump, but the alleyway below was far too well lit for him to climb down and then up another wall. He turned his attention to Tiny beside him.

"What do you think, big guy?"

Tiny leaned over the edge, pressing his belly into the corner of the roof. He dropped his arm to see if his units could detect the presence of any surveillance equipment. "I know security don't like to go outside since that rash of shootings six-months ago. They stay in and leave it to the cameras to pick up anything."

"Is the video feed constantly monitored?"

Tiny nodded and pointed at a hidden camera inside a sign. "Guy's asleep half the night, but you know luck."

"Yeah. The only time he'll be awake is when we're walking across the it."

"It's Murphy's Law."

Jason slipped the goggles down over his eyes and took a look through the darkened windows and playground. He figured he'd try out the walkie talkie and report in. "Condor to Eagle."

Mark answered quickly.

"_Ears on, Condor, report."_

"The buildings are fairly well lit around the perimeter. Standard orange light, range of about two metres. You and Swan could ghost around the main glow and trick the cameras."

"_Copy that, Condor. How are we with the cameras? Are they all on display or are they covert?"_

Jason looked across at Tiny, who smirked as he raised his communicator. "Owl here. Commander, there are surveillance units mounted on poles. I can confirm all are inactive. Anything watching is hidden, digital and wireless, behind signage."

"_Copy that, Owl. Good work. Princess is disabling the silent alarm and recoding the infra-red beam feed. In thirty seconds, any alarms will be sent to Princess' laptop. This school's tricky, they've put a trip sensor on it that will fire off a silent alarm if we disable it."_

Tiny chuckled. "Did Anderson set up the security here?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," Jason retorted with a snort. "Better check the feed isn't going back to the compound, Eagle."

"_There's nothing Princess and I can do about it from here, guys. All I can say is dodge the cameras. Unless you can find a way to knock out their wireless signal, it's going to be our major obstacle. Owl, keep your eyes on that detector and isolate each and every camera on the grounds for us. I want to know where our voids are."_

"Big-ten, Eagle," Jason groaned in effort as he leaned down to peer inside the window. He held the goggles in place with one hand and used the other to hold himself steady. "Ya think Mark could've brought the heat sensing goggles, too?"

Tiny chuckled. "Havin' trouble seeing through walls, Jase?"

"Superman, I'm not," he growled.

Jason shifted to take out the sting of gravel through his shirt and let out a yelp as he began to drop forward off the ledge. Before he had a chance to let his young life flash before his eyes, Tiny had hold of his ankle. The big guy's grip was tight, but not uncomfortable.

There wasn't even a strain in his voice when Tiny checked on Jason's condition. "You okay, Jase?"

"Shit," he seethed as he swung a little from side to side. "This means I owe you one, doesn't it?

Tiny leaned over the edge to look down at Jason. "You want me to pull you up, or what?"

"Can you hold me okay?"

Tiny nodded and gave a laugh. "A skinny boy like you, yeah, piece of cake. Why?"

Jason hung in front of a window and held both hands on his goggle to refine the focus. "Got a great view of things here, Tiny."

Tiny brushed the gravel off the ledge and lay his stomach on it to gain better leverage to hang on to his teammate. "Great. Just let me know when your ready to come up."

Jason looked through the windows. Aside from what looked like a cat roaming the halls looking for a mouse of a rat, there was no movement at all. "Nuthin'," he sighed on a disappointed note.

"You sound like you want something to happen."

Jason curled up slightly to look up at Tiny. He smirked at the wide-eyed look the nightvision goggles gave him. "You know, it might be good to try out the moves we've been taught."

Tiny shrugged, which gave Jason a short jerk of movement. "I'm a pacifist, Jase."

"You're a what?"

"A pacifist," he repeated nonchalantly. "You know, I don't like to fight."

Jason snorted and hung himself upside down to scan the grounds. "Then whatcha doing with us, man? I'm pretty sure that's what they're training us for."

Tiny shrugged again. "Dunno, Jase. Maybe to stop you falling three-storeys to your death?"

Jason chuckled. "Yeah, that works for me."

Jason looked into the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of Mark and Princess inside the building, but found it impossible due to him being able only to see into the second floor windows. He wriggled in hope that Tiny could get him a little lower. As he struggled, Tiny began to grunt.

"Jase, stop it, man."

"Just a little lower, Tiny. I need to check out Mark and Princess route."

"Jason. Damn it, I only have hold of your shoe now …"

No sooner had he said it, and Jason's show gave way and the Condor stated a headfirst free fall to the ground. "Shi-ii-ii-ii-t!"

Jason has no clue what happened; what the snap inside him was that kicked in; but without thought he kicked his feet against the wall, let his hands find the brick, and managed to flip his body around mid air to land, like a cat, on his feet. The fall dropped him into a crouch, which was soft enough that his fingertips only had to tap at the ground to keep him steady. He took a couple of deep panted breaths and looked at the ground before raising his eyes to Tiny.

"What the hell just happened?" he questioned with a voice still full of panic.

"Jason?" Tiny's voice was utterly confused. "What did you just do … how did you do that?"

Jason shook his head and brushed his fingers on the concrete before he rose to a stand. "I have no idea – But, damn, I'm not going to try that again."

Tiny frowned from his perch. He folded his arms across his chest and loomed down at the ground below. "No," he breathed in decision. "But I think I might."

Jason couldn't believe his ears. "What? Man, no. Don't go and …" He inhaled a sharp breath and immediately jagged to one side as Tiny leapt down from the roof. "Do that!"

Tiny's landing was nowhere near as soft as Jason's. He landed with almost straight legs on the exact place Jason had. His fists were clenched as if awaiting impact if he fell, and his legs gave only the slightest bend at the knee to take the impact, but he didn't fall, stumble or trip.

He smiled dangerously as he looked at Jason. "Just when, do you think, Anderson was thinking of telling us about this?"

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Anderson's eyes shot open wide as he saw the image on the monitor of both boys landing from such high distance. He knew that with the right uniform their descents would be much easier controlled and softer than the average human being, but he had no clue that the boys would have such great control without aids. He let out a long and awed breath as he set his hand on the shoulder of one of his communications technicians.

"Please tell me that you have managed to intercept and bypass those wireless feeds."

The technician nodded, his own awe apparent. "Thirty seconds before Jason appeared in the frames, Sir." He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Do you still want me to contact base security and have them brought back?"

Anderson put his hand over the phone to punctuate his negative to the question. "Let's see what they do. They obviously have this well thought-out and planned. I want to see these kids in action."

The technician nodded. "Are you sure they're only kids?"

Anderson nodded. "I don't think I've ever seen them this much in control – or so perfectly in synch with each other."

"Today they aren't kids, are they?"

"No," Anderson breathed proudly. "Tonight they're on their own personal mission – and tonight they're the soldiers we've been training them to be."

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Princess bit lightly on the very corner of her bottom lip as she worked the last of the codes through her hand-held unit to complete the alarm code bypass. Her heart pumped wildly in her chest as she worked, and she had butterflies doing much the same in her belly. There was an urge to just give it up and run, but she couldn't. Not because she was scared, or because she was sure the whole lot of them would be grounded for life if they didn't stop now and sneak back home, she couldn't stop because she honestly didn't want to.

She felt so exhilarated and energized. She'd been at this school now for over a year and this was the first time she felt like she was in the right place, with the right people, doing to right thing.

The change she saw in the boys was something she was battling to come to terms with, but was by no means afraid of or upset by. They'd all abruptly changed from rampaging teenage brats into focussed team mates. Mark, especially. How he had switched and suddenly grown into a leader. He was always protective, assuring and guiding, but tonight he was a stern and focused commander.

His eyes did not stop moving. His mind continued to fire. He was always one step ahead of her with a hand on her as if ready to push her from harms way should they encounter it.

What a gentleman.

If she didn't already have a little crush on him before, she most certainly did now.

She finalized and received the confirmation that the bypass was complete and quickly pulled the connective wire from the main unit. "Done, Commander. We won't need to watch out for any infra-red or sensor alarms from hereon in."

He gave her a smile. "Great work, Princess. Now let's go meet up with Jason and Tiny and get back your yo-yo."

She pocketed the unit in the back pocket of her shorts and fell into step behind him. She smiled when he took her hand to lead her to the main exit into the courtyard. "Thank you," she said softly.

He didn't look back at her, but his voice was warm. "For what, Cass?"

"For helping me get back my yo-yo."

He squeezed her hand tighter. "We know what it means to you. We also know you'd do the same for us." He rolled his head to look at her. "We're a team, remember? What hurts you hurts us." He looked back at the door. "And noone hurts my Cassandra."

"Princess," she corrected softly.

"Yes. Princess." He paused just shy of the door when he saw Tiny and Jason standing on the other side. He rapped on the window with his knuckle to get their attention. "Do I need to ask?"

Tiny gave them goofy thumbs up as Jason opened the door and poked his head inside. "Oh, man. You just missed the coolest thing." He looked down to where Mark held tightly onto Princess' hand. "Or did I miss something cool?"

Princess gasped at the waggle of his brows and quickly shook her hand free of Mark's. "It was dark in there, okay?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Grow up, Jason."

Tiny draped an arm over Princess' shoulder and leaned in as if to gather them into a group. Noone complied with a huddle request, but he spoke anyway. "Commander, just a heads up, we are on candid camera right now."

Mark's eyes flicked around to find the camera. "Where?"

Tiny let his eyes rise above their heads. "Pep rally sign. In the eye of the panther there's a small pinhole lens." He swept the sensor through the air in front of him, making sure to show Princess the readings. "As luck would have it, we are standing in the one section of grounds that has three sets of eyes looking at us."

Mark groaned. "We what?" His gaze narrowed at Tiny. "Your job was to protect us from this."

Tiny raised his hands in his own defence. "Look, Jason fell off the roof. He was already in the camera's eyes, so I figured I'd jump in beside him."

"Jump?" Mark asked with a dropped brow.

Jason smirked. "That was the cool thing you missed."

Mark pursed his lips. "Okay, new directives."

"New what?"

Mark rolled his eyes at Jason. "New plan of attack." At Jason's breath of realization he continued. He pointed up at the one camera they were aware of. "You have the gun, get rid of it."

Jason's brows rose. "Take it out?"

"Yeah. Find all those suckers and blind them all. Single shot for each preferably, that gun has a hell of a cough on it and I don't want to have the police department out here stalking gun toting suspects." He turned his attention to Tiny. "Do you know where the communications and security hub is?"

Tiny nodded shortly. "Yeah, it's not too far from here. It's a small room, Commander. It's got a man in there at all times."

Mark tilted a head. "Then why aren't we being chased down by guard dogs?"

"Because they don't have any?" At Mark's glare he shrugged. "The guy's asleep half the time, or he's watchin' the game. Unless something really gets his attention, you aint gonna be able to pull him out of there."

Jason snatched the sensor out of his hand. "While you're talking, I'll be shooting, is that okay?"

Mark nodded. "The sooner the better, Jase." He turned his attention to Tiny and tried not to flinch as Jason fired off the first shot of what he hoped would only be three. "What gets his attention?"

Tiny smirked at Jason's background cheer of making a kill-shot first try, but he kept his focus on Mark. "Honestly, and you won't like it, but he gets his kicks on the kids makin' out."

"What are you suggesting?" Princess interrupted with perhaps a small unsure waver in her voice. "That two of us make out where the cameras can see us?" She drooped at his smirk. "Well do I at least get to choose who I suck-face with?"

Mark seemed a little mortified by the idea. "What? What makes you think you …?" As soon as the question left his lips he answered it for himself.

Tiny seized the opportunity. "Well, you could always go in the bleachers with Jason, Mark; leave Prin and I to take out the recording equipment."

Jason snorted as he located and shot out another camera. "I should punch you in the face for even joking about it, Tiny."

Tiny set his hand on his hips and laughed. "Which was gonna be my actual suggestion. He gets his kicks on kids makin' out. But if you wanna get him to leave, then I say you and Jason go have a fight somewhere he can see you."

Mark pursed his lips and set his hands in his pockets. "This is just going to make this whole thing take that much longer."

Princess shuffled her foot a little on the concrete. "We can just abort if you wish, Commander."

His eyes slid in her direction and he gave her a sly grin. "Oh, absolutely not. We just need to hope that Anderson isn't bed-checking us tonight."

Her eyes widened. "He does that?"

Mark shrugged. "I hope not." He looked across at Jason as the last of three shots rang out and the final camera lens was destroyed. "Nice, Jase."

Jason set the gun on his shoulder and strutted proudly back to the group. "This is one of those moments I wish that drill-sergeant asshole range instructor was here. An inch off, my ass. Robin Hood wishes for my accuracy."

Mark slapped Jason on the shoulder and walked toward the centre courtyard. "C'mon, Condor. Let's go rumble."

Jason half growled/half purred as he stalked behind Mark. "This isn't going to be a WCW pick who wins kind of fight is it?"

Mark answered with a laugh.

So Jason gave one, too. "Oh this is gonna be fun." He turned back to Princess and Tiny. "Thanks for losing your yo-yo, Cass. This has been a heck of a night …"

Mark grabbed Jason by the sleeve of his shirt and tugged him away. "Now, Jason."

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"Inventive group," Eden, the visual communications expert smirked as he watched the final feed link turn to static. "I'm kind of glad that we won't be looking at any of them making out."

Anderson rubbed at his chin. "Whoever would have been the one kissing Princess would be glad about that too," he growled, the threat rather plainly illustrated. He tapped his foot as several more technicians and analysts entered the room. He looked at their tactical adviser and pointed at a monitor. "I want you to go over everything until this point. Analyze Mark's decision making and problem solving skills – see where he needs refinement." His gaze shot to the Range instructor. "Jason's right about his accuracy Evans. Your report suggests he is a lazy shot, but I see nothing in his actions tonight to corroborate that.

Evans rocked on his heels and sniffed hard. "Tonight he's focused."

"Work on his in-class focus that in training, will you? I need better reports than what you're giving me. He's proven he has a rather accurate sniper shot."

A young woman with wide rimmed glasses, and Princess' electronics coach handed a clipboard to Anderson. "Cassandra was thirty seconds over her usual disarming time. Somewhere she lost her focus, You might need to schedule her for an extra hour or two with me this week."

"Done," Anderson agreed. "I did expect her to perform a little faster than that, given her reports."

"As for Tiny," another tech added with a hint of pride in his voice. "He's far exceeding any expectation I had."

Anderson shook his head. "No. He lapsed with the security detail. He should have stayed where he was and had Jason clear the scene."

"Yes, but …"

"But nothing," Anderson interrupted. "That boy is smarter than that. Let's have him lose his excitement out there and focus more, shall we?"

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Tiny walked ahead of Princess to lead her toward the main security station. It was a small building of its own, resembling more of a check-point booth than a legitimate security house, but it seemed secure enough. The pair could plainly see the flickering lights of television monitors and, perhaps, a football game in progress. They could also hear the cheer of more than one man at the happenings on the set.

Princess leaned in to Tiny. "Sounds like there is more than one person on watch tonight."

Tiny pursed his lips and pressed his back into the wall to peer in through a window. He let out a quiet grunt of annoyance. "The guy standing is Mario. He's responsible for patrolling the main wing of the complex – the administration sector. He's the one we need to worry about when we get inside. The guy seated is Frank, a bit of a dick, but easily distracted."

She stood beside Tiny and leaned around him to do her own analysis. "They look like they're watching sports … soccer?"

Tiny gave a nod. "World Cup. The two of them are Italian and I think Italy are playing Australia over there tonight."

She pursed her lips. "Which means they are distracted more than usual from their duties?"

He nodded. "Yeah. This whole soccer thing is like religion. I really don't think that Mark'n'Jason havin' a scuffle is going to make them move."

She pursed her lips tightly. "Oh. That bad, huh?"

Tiny took a step closer and gave a nod as he peered beyond the small colour screen and at the digital images from the school. He gave a long snort. "Shit."

Princess elbowed him. "Language, Tiny."

He ignored the chiding. "Looks like there are extra cameras our sensors couldn't pick up."

Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

He pointed at an extra monitor on the screen. The image wasn't as perfect as the others, but it was clear enough to be able to accurately identify anyone who shouldn't be there. Her eyes narrowed and she found herself leaning far enough around Tiny to have to hang on to his shirt to prevent falling over. She let out a long breath as she saw Mark and Jason stride into the view of another monitor.

"Swan to Eagle."

"_Go ahead, Princess."_

"The school's gone high-tech," she warned softly. "There are several monitors in here, one of which is a satellite feed."

"_A what? Oh you have got to be kidding me. Since when does a school rely on satellite imagery in their surveillance?"_

"Same could be asked about why there are security guards," Princess mused to herself as pursed her lips and boldly stepped around Tiny to focus harder on the monitor. "Commander, it looks like this monitor is Federation issue." She snapped back and looked at the ground with a frown. "Would they have given them technology because of us?"

"_I wouldn't doubt it. I should have expected something like this given Anderson's ability to know everything we do. They have permanent eyes on us."_

"They wouldn't need to give the school access, though, Commander. A satellite is a satellite – it can be seen by anyone with a dish and access code."

"_Then I don't know, Princess. We'll make our own inquiries when we get back to base. For now, we need to complete our current assignment. Are you ready for Jason and I to get rowdy?"_

She pursed her lips. "Give me a second." She switched her gaze between a large Oak tree out in the centre of the yard, and then back at the soccer game. "Tiny, how badly will they lose their mind if they lose reception to their game?"

"Have you ever seen an Italian soccer fan miss a kick because someone spoke to them?"

She shook her head innocently. "No, is it bad?"

He nodded with an open mouth. "Think of Keyop when you force him to eat vegetables, multiply it by a thousand, and you get the basic idea."

She giggled into her hand. "Commander. I have an idea that might save damage to yours and Jason's handsome faces. Hold off on the fight for now."

Jason answered. _"Oh come on, Swan. Don't take away my fun, now."_

Princess giggled and pulled her C-4 charge from her pocket. "Boys boys boys," she sang as she pried off a small pea-sized amount and squeezed it in between the two batteries of a key-chain torch. "Tiny. If I've learned anything from my sonar training, it's that satellites and dishes need a clear view of each other to work."

He nodded. "Yeah, I remember that class."

Her eyes rose as she tenderly screwed the cap back on the torch, careful not to activate the switch. "Gosh, I wish I had my yo-yo. This would be a mush easier shot to make."

He petted her shoulder. "Whatever you're gonna do, just think that your new bomb is your yo-yo. If the weight is the same, the throw needs to be the same."

She sighed and nodded. "I'm not sure I can aim the fall of the branch, Tiny, so you might want to step back a little bit."

He nodded and slowly walked himself backward. "Just concentrate, Cass. I know you can do it."

She bit lightly on her lip and narrowed her eyes to concentrate on the shot. "I have one chance at this, Tiny." She heard his hair brush against the collar of his jacket as he nodded and exhaled slowly to control her toss. As the charge left her hand, she spun and ducked and then grabbed at Tiny's shirt to drag him into a crouch with her.

The explosion sounded little more than a light crack of thunder, but the hit was true. Before the sound of the explosion ceased it was dwarfed by the groan of a weakening limb. At least 16 inches in diameter the limb struggled, moaned, and then cracked with a deafening splintering cough. Inside a second the limb fell with an almighty crash of leaves and wood on top of an expensive, but small, satellite dish on the side wall of the little shack.

Princess wasn't entirely sure of it, but the groan of disappointment and disbelief from inside the shack was louder than the timbering crash of the tree. She immediately rose to her feet and roughly dragged Tiny by the shirt to the side of the shack. They sheltered there as the two men inside rushed out of the building to investigate.

She couldn't help but smile to herself at the sheer thrill behind what they were doing. Her heart hammered inside her chest, heightened by the steady streaming rush of adrenaline, and her whole body seemed to be running on pure electricity. The energizing thrill and energy rushing down her spine and into her belly begged release. Without a thought she suddenly thrust forward her arms, clutched at a t-shirt, and then pulled the unsuspecting individual into a hard and chaste kiss against the mouth.

"Wow," she half-whined, half-moaned as she looked into a stunned pair of blue eyes. "Who would have known it would feel _that_ good?"

Mark coughed as she pulled away and skipped into the shack. He swept his eyes between Tiny and Jason and let his mouth gape in surprise. "What? Uh, what just happened?"

Tiny's eyes were just as wide. "The bigger question here is just where did you guys come from?"

Jason thumbed his nose and shrugged. "We heard a bang and figured you might need help."

Tiny pointed into the distance. "But you were way over there."

"Yeah," Jason smirked. "Sign me up for the Olympics."

Mark was still in a state of surprise. "And neither of you are interested in Cassie just kissing me?"

Jason shrugged again and made his way lazily toward the shack. "Was gonna happen sooner or later." He made kissing sounds as he stepped through the door and leaned against the frame. "So, Cass. Sucking face with your Commander? Does this mean you're his girlfriend?"

She half ignored him as she felt around the units for the off-switches. "The only way to turn them off is at the wall – and I don't think that's a good idea. I'll have to try and set these to send out a loop feed to the main receiver." She shuffled out from under the table and checked on the two men musing over the fallen branch and checked her watch. "I'll need about two minutes, Jason. Can you look out for me?"

Jason looked across the yard, and grunted as Mark deliberately knocked shoulders against him as he entered the shack. "Watch yourself, pretty boy, I'll knock more than your shoulder if you do that again."

Mark gave him a toothy grin of challenge, and then set his attention on Princess. "Hey Cass, how are we looking?"

"Princess," She corrected, while keeping her focus on the monitor, and pointed at the door. "Please watch the entrance. I need another forty-five seconds."

"What are you doing?"

Her brow flicked and she gave a smile as she tapped in the final keystrokes. "What we discussed I was going to do." With a quick and flicked rub of her hands to announce she'd completed the task, she rose and pointed to the satellite monitor. While it didn't have a picture on it, it certainly did have the Federation insignia bolted onto it. "There's the evidence, Mark. Mr. Anderson is keeping an eye on us alright."

His lips pursed and he eyeballed Jason scrutinizing the monitor with narrowed eyes. "Which means he is probably looking at us right now."

Princess gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh my. You think so?"

Jason sucked on his teeth and shook his head. "Nah, we don't have the Federation Police swarming in after us."

Princess' eyes widened. "You think he'd do that? Oh no. We're going to be in so much trouble."

Mark shook his head. "No, he's probably critiquing us on our performance."

Tiny's voice boomed from the doorway. "And we're losing marks for talking about it. Guys, they're talking about calling in someone." He thumbed over his shoulder. "So do we want to get a move on before these guys freak and call the cops or someone to come and turn their game back on??"

Jason, Princess and Mark all nervously peered over Tiny's shoulder at the two security guards. It was clear by their overt and exaggerated movements that they were annoyed, upset, and ready to slaughter something or someone to get their game back on the air.

"Oh dear," Princess said softly as she brought her fingers to her mouth and pressed them to her mouth. "They look mad."

Mark ticked in air through his lips. "We're lucky they haven't questioned how the branch fell. The sky is clear, so it couldn't have been thunder."

Jason slapped the back of his hand against Mark's chest and strolled out through the door. "Would you like to go and discuss possible scenarios with them, Skipper, or would you like to get our butts in to the Admin wing and get what we came for?"

Mark gave a nod and thrust his hands into his pockets as he used a shrug of his shoulders to tell Tiny and Princess to follow him. "Jase … did you just refer to me as your Commander?"

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Anderson was unmoving as he watched his training teams scramble with the new information to quickly present fast and accurate findings. He had to admit humour at the conversations between his children and made a mental note never to tell them about how to turn off the auto open frequency option that was currently broadcasting every word they uttered back to base.

This was brute honesty at work here, and it gave him a greater insight into their dynamic and their thought processes as they countered their obstacles.

…And it also gave him a view into how they saw him, too.

"Doctor Anderson," the explosives trainer spluttered as she thrust a clipboard into Anderson's chest. "Cassandra was able to not only accurately estimate the correct amount of explosive, but was also able to quickly create an incendiary device capable of detonating the explosive."

Anderson smiled. "Yes, I know."

The Explosives tech shook her head. "You might want to educate young Mark on the properties of our various explosive compounds. I don't need to tell you that C-4 …"

"Yes," Anderson interrupted impatiently. "I am aware that Mark did not consider Princess may need a detonator, especially with that particular substance. I am also aware that our young lady is well enough equipped in both intelligence and means to find her own detonation devices."

The tech shrugged, but didn't take her eyes from the board. "I still don't know how she managed to detonate without a secondary explosive …"

"She knows," he barked. "We have her finely trained and in tune with every single explosive compound on the planet. I am sure we could give her a marshmallow and Princess will figure out a way to make it explosive."

"Then perhaps she should train us," the technician in a manner far more suited to one of the children.

"Yes, perhaps she should."

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It was hard for any of the four to honestly decide which was more intimidating; the Administration wing of the office during the day, with Principals looming, or the wing during the evening, where they were all sure the ghosts of bad children and previous principals lurked. More than once each of them gave an uneasy shudder as they passed a particular section.

Princess was the only one who chose to admit her uneasiness. She rubbed at her arms and had her head ducked timidly. "This place is really creepy at night."

Mark rubbed at her back and found himself chuckling when she jumped at his touch. "Don't worry. There's no such thing as ghosts…"

"Who said I was worried about ghosts?" she snapped as she pulled away from him and lightly bumped into Jason. She gave him a look of apology and turned her attention back to Mark. "I just don't like dark creepy places like this."

Jason snorted. "Something tells me this is something we may have to get used to." He raised a hand to tell them all to pause. "Shh. Sounds like someone is still on the prowl through here."

Princess pressed a finger into her lip in thought as she attempted to peer around a corner. "But Tiny said the guard posted here is the one outside."

Tiny grunted in agreement as he felt Jason and Mark's eyes flick toward him. "Yeah. Unless the schedule's b'n changed, he's the one."

Mark picked up the voice and closed his eyes as he angled his head toward the sound. "I don't think that's a grown-up, guys." His lips pursed and he seemed to be straining to hear. "It sounds like a few kids. Let's hang back and wait to see what's happening."

Jason raised a brow and gripped onto Tiny's shirt to drag him around the corner. "You're with me, Big Guy – We'll let the two girls wait here."

"Oh bite me," Mark grunted back as he took Princess' hand and tugged her toward the corner. He flicked a challenging brow. "As a team, Jason."

Jason shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay, whatever."

They slid silently into the main office and stared through the darkness toward four shifting flashlight beams in the vault room.

"Shit," Jason growled low. "Looks like someone had the same idea we did today."

Mark's entire expression darkened as recognition dawned and he caught sight of one of the three boys. "Moose," he growled dangerously.

Princess gave a small gasp and leaned in closer to Mark, Tiny lowered his gaze, and Jason curled a lip in thrill. He rubbed at his knuckles. "No teachers on site, Mark. Whaddya think?"

"Oh nothing would please me more," Mark purred back before he closed his eyes and shook his head. "But we should wait until they're done. Save the headaches if things get out of hand."

"No headaches," Jason argued. "We can end their crap tonight."

Mark shook his head. "Let's not and say we did."

A voice from the foursome in the vault ceased any further argument on the topic.

"Well look what we have here," Moose practically whooped. "The geek, the fat boy and the James Dean wannabe." He strode past Mark to stand in front of Princess. He looked down his nose at her as he scrutinized her form. "Why are you hanging around with these dweebs, Cass? A cute little thing like you should come play with boys like us."

She blinked as he flicked his thumb backward to indicate his friends behind him. Her hands shakily rose to sit on her hips as she turned her head to one side in arrogance. "No thank you, Moose. I feel safer with these guys than you and your creepy friends."

"Oh no need to be like that," he chuckled as he ran the tip of his tongue over the very corner of his mouth. "Me and the boys will be gentle with you, won't we guys."

Mark felt Jason's eyes slide toward him. "I think she gave you her answer," he breathed low. "So back off or I'll break your neck."

Moose flicked a brow and just looked at Mark for a while. He let the comment sit in his mind for a moment and then let out a loud laugh. "That sounds like a challenge, Anderson."

Mark tilted his head lightly to one side. "No, that's not a challenge, but you can consider it a threat if you like."

Moose thumbed at his nose and switched his slouch to his other foot. He turned his head back to his friends, who were slowly filing out of the vault with their arms laden with confiscated toys. "Looks like the geek has grown some balls. Whaddya think, guys, should we show him what we like to do with nerds at this school?"

Mark's brow flicked at the agreeing guffaws from the three other football jocks. He let his eyes slide to Jason, who had taken up flank to his left. "Jase, let's just get what we came for and get out of here."

It was Princess' voice that sounded in through the quiet. "Jack has it," she said softly when she noted the yo-yo on top of a pile in the large boy's arms.

Jack, the largest of the four jocks, looked down at his bounty and nodded at the toy. "You want this, Cassandra? Are you here for your precious little toy?"

"Give it to me," she warned softly.

Moose nudged at one of his friends with his elbow. "That's what all the girls say to us isn't it?"

Jason groaned as the foursome laughed. "Mature. Now give the girl back her yo-yo and we can all go back to what we were doing."

Moose snatched the yo-yo from Jack and clumsily attempted to extend and recoil it. When it didn't work to his liking he hurled it against a wall, which broke it into two pieces. "Stupid piece of shit."

Princess gasped in horror and practically wept as she rushed through the boys to drop at the floor beside the toy. She held it gingerly in her hands and looked up sadly at Mark. "He. He broke it."

Mark took a look at her and then slid his gaze back up to Moose. He glared through his brows at the boy who was almost double his size. "And now, we break you …"

"Damn straight," Jason snarled from beside Mark at about the same time Tiny cracking his knuckles was heard.

"Oooh," Moose moaned in feigned fear. "I'm so scared."

"Yeah," Jack chuckled as he opened his arms to let the loot fall to the floor. "No teachers here to stop us tonight, Nerd. We'll kick your ass back to kindergarten."

Before any boy could move, however, a flash of black and pink darted in front of Moose. She paused only enough for him to make out her form and then spun tightly to power a foot into his gut. As he stumbled backward, she launched at him again to shove him to the ground.

"How could you! My father gave that to me!" She let her fists swing violently left to right against his face. "It's all I have you … you …"

"Princess?" Mark questioned softly vaguely aware that none of the boys had moved. Three of them were stunned, the other three were simply unwilling to beat on a girl who was already crying.

Moose was the only one not currently concerned by gender. As Princess started to relax out of her attack at the sound of Mark's voice, he leapt into action against her. His shove threw her into Tiny, who seemed only to be a wall against him when he launched after her.

"You little bitch!"

Jason was swifter than anyone had expected and had hold of a fistful of Moose's hair before anyone had even registered what was happening. He yanked hard to pull the boy's head back. "The only bitch here is you," he snarled low enough only for Princess, Tiny and Moose to hear. "Now apologize to Cassie for breaking her yo-yo, and I promise I won't kill you."

"Fuck you, Jason. I'll be the one killing you … you … nerd."

Jason snorted and let his eyes rise slowly to Princess. "I can hold him for you, Cassie."

She seemed to consider it for a moment and finally shook her head. "Let's just get out of here."

Mark heard the pain in her voice. He set his hand on her shoulder and lightly stroked her arm. "I'll fix it for you, Princess. I promise."

Moose gave a defiant laugh. "Princess? Oh how sweet. The nerd has a crush on the little girl." He gave a short grunt at Jason giving him a shove. "Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Jason was unimpressed. "You just don't know when to give up, do you?"

Moose smirked and bumped his chest against Jason's. "No. Do you?"

Jason's lip curled into a predatory grin and he took a breath in order to respond, but was interrupted by a booming voice from the doorway.

"What are you kids doing in here?"

The entire room immediately silenced as all kids shrank and hid as best they could in the darkness, with each person falling in to their respective group formations.

The bootfalls up the hallway were fast and at any moment, all of them would be discovered.

"I know it's you, Moose," the voice growled. "It's always you and your damn friends."

Moose actually sounded somewhat panicked as he let his eyes switch between his friends. "Shit, man. If my mom and dad find out I'm here I'll be grounded for life."

Jason snorted. "Sucks to be you, man." He nodded toward Mark. "Let's get the Hell out of here."

Moose clutched a handful of Jason's shirt. "And don't you think for a second I won't tell them you were all here too." At Jason's wide eyes he continued. "And something tells me all of you will be in way more trouble that any of us."

"Meaning?"

Moose gave a smug smirk. And looked across at Jason "I know for a fact that you're one step away from being expelled. I tell them you were here and you're out."

Mark grunted to interrupt. "We're wasting time. Princess, you have any of that compound left?"

She shook her head but scuffled on the floor into the pile of contraband. "Yes, but it'll be too dangerous. There are a couple of cherry bombs here, I can use that."

He gave a nod. "Great, use your throwing arm and force him to take a detour. Tiny, can you take out that window?"

Tiny was already mobile. "On it, Commander."

Mark finally turned to Jason and Moose. "You two, shelve it. Take what you came for and leave out that window. Princess and I will distract here and then we'll meet you at the carpark." He barely reacted as the first small flash and boom of a well-aimed cherry bomb went off across the hall. "Tiny. Cameras?"

Tiny grunted as he opened the window and shoved hard at the reinforced security screen. He, too, was unmoving as another flash went off down the hall. "Cassie had that problem sorted in the shack, Mark. They're all on the same network."

"Good to hear," Mark replied as he pressed his back into the wall to peer into the doorway to check on the effectiveness of Princess' charges. He didn't look back, but pointed at the window when her heard the final whine of the aluminium to indicate the screen was down. "Everyone else, out."

Princess leaned up beside Mark and giggled into his ear as she heard the swearing and skittering of a man caught unaware in the hall. "Oh this is fun."

Mark allowed himself to smile, but quickly suppressed it. "I'm more worried about how much trouble we're going to be in when this is over to be thinking of how fun it is."

She smiled coyly. "Admit it, Mark."

He took her by the hand and offered her a wink as he took her to the window. "After you, Princess."

She looked up as she backed out of the window and gave him a tight-eyed smile. "Thank you." She stopped with a giggle as she felt Tiny grab at her hips to help her through. She fell into his arms and hugged him around the neck. "And thank you!"

The group of eight gathered on the ground, with Mark and Moose standing face to face. It was Moose who dared speak first.

"This doesn't change anything, Nerd," he grunted. "Just because you freaks got us out of there doesn't mean you get a free ride for the rest of the year."

Mark shook his head and gave a nonchalant shrug. "Whatever." He pointed toward the car park. "Jason, warm up the truck and pick us up on the street." He slid his eyes to Moose. "Truce for tonight only, then. Do you guys need a ride home?"

Jack gasped from behind them. "You drive?"

Jason smirked as he deliberately bumped shoulders with him as he passed. "Yeah, you don't?"

"Jason," Mark warned low before returning his attention to the school's quarterback. "Yes or no?"

Moose shook his head and then thumbed at his nose. "Nuh."

Princess breezed past. "No thank you," she corrected arrogantly. She took Mark by the hand and tugged him to the corner to wait for Jason. "Let's get back before Mr. Anderson realizes we're missing."

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"Careless," Anderson breathed in annoyance as he watched the satellite image of the King Ranch leave the school. "Absolutely careless."

A Tactical Advisor clicked his tongue in agreement beside him. "They were doing so well up to that point, Doctor. What happened?"

"Inexperience," Anderson answered quickly. "And probably a good measure of arrogance."

The Advisor nodded with pursed lips. "They went in with only basic intel, Anderson. With that in mind, they did pretty well. It's damn near impossible to know every potential obstacle ahead of you if you can't see through walls."

"They need something on the inside as their eyes, then," he suggested with a rub of his chin. "I suggest you and your teams come up with something that can see through those walls and be able to immediately formulate a counter plan when necessary."

"Are you suggesting an A.I., Anderson?"

He nodded. "It's more reliable than several persons manning a room full of surveillance equipment. N.A.S.A. blows their budget with every mission just on personnel alone. Shift changes mid-mission cause confusion and black-out periods. I don't want the same to happen every time I send my team out."

The Technician thought for a moment then grunted as if stumbling onto an idea. "Evans in Engineering just submitted plans for a droid to work in the Research Facility. I'll see if we can't modify those plans to have the robot work for us instead."

Anderson took a step backward and spun to walk into the doorway. He spoke over his shoulder as he left the room. "I want the plans on my desk by lunchtime tomorrow."


	8. Chapter 8

To those patiently reading this monstrosity, I do apologise for the delay in posting. I got a little busy here at the office, and then some real life stuff distracted me.

I do hope this is not a disappointing chapter … I call it a filler chapter … It is necessary to set up the next scene or so, so do bear with the bulls***.

As always comments (good and bad) are appreciated. As long as there isn't an outright flame attack, I'm pretty okay with whatever you need to say to me.

Enjoy!

GK

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When Anderson finally made his way into the lounge room to the team's quarters, it was well past midnight. He knew the team had snuck back in before 10pm and wanted them to settle down somewhat before he spoke with them about their antics.

For the most part he was impressed with their performance. He had been given an opportunity to view their skills and minds in action rather than in the relative safety of the simulators. He found their weaknesses and where they needed further refinement.

… He'd also found their team name.

It was hard to be miffed that they'd run off alone to get into mischief when it yielded so much new information for him.

He took a long look at them all before he actually entered the room to talk with them. Princess slept on the couch in between Mark and Jason. Her head lay on Mark's thighs and her feet were across Jason's lap. She clutched her toy possessively to her chest, but seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

Mark and Jason were both focussed on the TV screen ahead of them but conversed between each other. Jason held the remote control and randomly switched between stations. He smirked as he attempted to flick pieces of popcorn at Tiny's open mouth as he snored in an armchair beside him.

He had to chuckle inside himself at the completely normal teenage behaviour of his soon-to-be superheroes.

"Are you going to stand there all day, Sir," Mark asked softly without taking his eyes off the TV. "Or are you going to come in and talk to us?"

Anderson's lips pursed to hide a smile as he stepped into the room. He passed by the television and switched it off at the unit. "We do need to talk."

Jason jutted the remote repeatedly at the TV in an attempt to turn it back on, but was hampered by Anderson standing in front of him. "Aww. Come on, Sir. I was watching that."

Anderson's brows rose high on his forehead. "In the six minutes I was standing in the doorway, Jason, you have flicked between approximately seventeen channels."

"Yeah," he humphed in return, "Well I don't like ads so when they come on I browse to a new channel."

"Can you wake Princess and Tiny?" he said sternly in a complete change in topic. "I need you all for this conversation."

Jason shook Princess' feet, but only looked across at Tiny. "I'll let you wake him. Been there, done that, ain't doing it again."

Tiny's gruff and sleep-filled voice gravelled into the conversation. "I'm awake."

"So am I," said Princess, who was still laid out in between Mark and Jason. She stretched out and moaned long. "Is it morning already?" She wiped at her mouth and slowly drew herself to a seat. She yawned when she saw Anderson in front of the TV. "Hi, Mr. Anderson."

Anderson let out a breath and leaned forward to fan four communicator watches on the coffee table in front of them. He noted the sudden panicked looks of his wards and cleared his throat. "So. G-Force. Time for a debriefing on tonight's mission."

Jason's eyes were too wide on the watches to utter anything, as were Princess and Tiny's, so it was up to Mark to take charge. "How much, exactly, are you aware of, Sir?"

"Enough," Anderson responded shortly.

Jason let out what sounded like a relieved breath. "So in other words all you know is that we borrowed some watches and went on an unauthorized outing?"

Anderson offered a short smile and cocked his head to one side to regard Jason in a somewhat patronizing manner. "Oh. I know far more than that, Condor. You're very lucky I didn't call the Federation Police to swarm in after you."

Jason's brow rose slightly and he cast his eyes across to Tiny. "Spooky."

"Spooky is how spectacularly you managed to screw up what should have been an easy mission."

Mark's brow rose this time and he folded his arms against his chest. "Hey. There was no screw up," he argued. "There was just an obstacle that wasn't expected."

"And that you didn't have a pre-emptive strike plan for."

"A what?"

Anderson let out a breath and pulled across a chair to remain at the head of the conversation. He crossed his legs at the knee and sat back with his arms folded. "Before you head into any offensive, Mark, you need to plan for unexpected encounters from the enemy."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Moose is hardly what we would call an enemy."

Princess agreed. "He's just a bully."

"Bully or not," Anderson countered, "situations like that need to be taken into account and properly planned for so as not to disrupt the … the …" He frowned as Jason seemed to ignore him by jerking the remote toward the television again. "Jason, am I speaking in a language you don't understand?"

"I'm listening."

"No you're not; you're playing with the remote."

Jason smirked. "I'm multitasking."

Princess leaned forward and took the remote from Jason. "I'm more concerned about how you knew what we were doing and what happened, than hear a lecture about where we need to improve." She set the remote on the table in front of Mark. "Did Moose and his friends tell on us?"

Anderson smiled and shook his head. "No. You tattled on yourselves." He received four pairs of questioning eyes and leaned down to pick up the communicators. "You found that your school has much more surveillance and security staffing than most schools."

"Yes," Mark answered softly as Anderson passed him a communicator. "Princess, especially, has some questions for you regarding surveillance."

"Which will be answered," he replied as he passed Princess her communicator. "But in time." He held up Jason's communicator. "These, team, are your lifelines from herein. They are communications devices, tracking apparatus, Geiger counter, identification, time teller …" He chuckled as he passed it across to Jason and handed the last to Tiny. "Don't ever lose these. Once you snap them on, you keep them on."

Jason eyed his watch suspiciously. "Communication, you say?"

Anderson nodded. "Amongst other things."

"Does it have a mute button?"

Anderson felt the four sets of eyes on him and let out a long breath. "In order for the units to function, you do need to activate the communication mode." He flicked his hand to ask them all to put them on. "When Mark took these from the testing cradles, they were in active open communication mode. We had ears on from the moment they left the facility."

Jason's eyes shot open wide as he flicked his head to Mark. "Shit, did I happen to say anything bad about … ?" He flicked his ear toward Anderson rather than say his name.

Anderson ignored the comment and Tiny's chuckle. "Rather than handing any of you a user manual – because I know for a fact that Jason won't read it – I will have you paired and seated in an instructional class on the uses of this device."

Mark let his lips rise in a thoughtful pout and asked the question on everyone's mind. "Any chance you might be able to include a seminar on what it is exactly that we're training for?"

Jason snarked an answer, although his tone suggested that he was just as curious. "I think that's obvious, Man."

Anderson's head tiled to one side and he swept his hand through the air in front of him. "Then share with everyone, Jason."

Jason's eyes rolled and he attempted to answer as indignantly as possible. "Hired assassins, obviously."

Princess' breath hitched in with a sharp sigh. "Assassins?"

Mark petted her hand. "I don't think so, Cassie. I'd suggest Commandos, or Seals?" His eyes widened at Anderson for confirmation.

Anderson gave a nod. "Something like that. You're all in training for the defence of our galaxy." At three tilted heads of question he continued. "Since before any of you were born we have been under the threat of imminent war against a rogue planet out of our solar system. This planet, called Spectra, has been under Federation surveillance for quite some time. Their own resources are at an end and they are seeking to inhabit a new planet."

Princess swept her hair over her ear as she shifted innocently beside Mark. "Well, why don't they just ask? I'm sure we and the other planets will give them somewhere to stay. Kind of like immigration, right?"

Anderson shook his head. "That's not how this planet's ruler operates, Princess. He knows that if his people come to Earth then they come under our leadership. He thinks that he loses his control, and his people need to assimilate to our way of life, rather than what they've known for all of theirs."

"Assimilation," Jason snorted. "That word should be taken out of the dictionary – there's no such thing."

Mark's eyes narrowed and slid toward Jason. "You sound like you agree with Spectra."

"I don't agree with shit," He snorted in retort. "This planet has been _assimilating…_", he crooked his fingers to accent the word, "…for over a millennium. There is no such thing. I mean, The US, Canada, Australia, all those countries have been doing the immigration thing forever. Yet, there are still arguments, people getting offended by each other saying something as simple as Merry Christmas, people pissed off because their neighbour is … "

"Are you anywhere near your point, yet, Jason?" Mark snapped shortly. "This is not about you getting busted at school for spray painting Merry Christmas over the Happy Hannukah sign."

"No?" He spat back, spraying Princess in the face with spittle, which she half gagged as she wiped it free. "This guy is threatening to attack because he thinks that his people will have to change to be like us. Noone on this damn planet has done it, so why should they have to?"

"Careful," Princess warned softly. "You sound like you're on their side."

Anderson raised his hand to ask them all to quieten. "That argument is beside the point, team. The leader of this planet wants to take a new home by force. Your role is going to be to stop his every attempt at doing so."

Mark's attention shifted back to Anderson. "Do you really think the four of us are able to stop the advance of an entire planet?"

"Five," He corrected. "Keyop's training has been initiated and he will join the four of you when we feel he is ready."

Princess shook her head quickly, which made the curls at the ends of her hair bounce, and then stick to her lips. She blew through her mouth as she pulled the strands free of her lips. "But he's so young, Sir. I can't imagine …"

"You all began training at a younger age than he is now. Believe me, Princess, he will strengthen and match your abilities in far less time than you all have."

Her eyes flared in surprise. "Really?"

He nodded. "He was genetically engineered to be swifter, and more competent than the four of you."

Mark had to flick a somewhat mildly offended brow. "So you're saying he's better than us?"

"No, I'm not saying that, Mark," Anderson answered quickly. "His learning skills and perhaps some of his physical agility may be improved over the four of you, but in that he has lesser skills in other areas. He, like all of you, will rely on his team mates to reach his full potential out there."

Jason had to smirk. "Your work in cloning needs some work, eh?"

Anderson was far from impressed. "He is not a clone, Jason, and our work far exceeded our own expectations. His inabilities and faults will not affect his performance out on the field."

"But improvements can be made."

Anderson gave a short cough of displeasure. "I do not need to explain, nor outline, the project to you, Jason. All you need to know about Keyop is that he will be just as capable as the rest of you."

Jason shrugged. "Yet you defend yourself."

Anderson's face and glare froze on Jason for a slight moment. He finally took a clearing breath and returned his attention to the entire team. "We analyzed your performance out in the field today. I must say that for the most part the project leaders were pleased with how you all operated."

Princess let out a breath and dipped her head to look at Mark. "But?"

Mark petted her hand, and then held onto it firmly as he raised his head to Anderson. "You found areas where we need to improve, right?"

Anderson nodded. "Which is to be expected on your first outing. Any disappointments we have are easily reconciled with further training and refinement." He caught a smirk from Jason and slowly directed his gaze toward him. "This is not a green light for you to embark on any other misguided attempt at covert operations, Jason. There _will_ be disciplinary action over your antics tonight – you can trust me on that."

Jason let out a breath. "Damn."

"Damn, exactly," he warned sternly. "I do not condone what you four did this evening. You put the entire project at risk by pulling that stunt and it will take some serious negotiating on my part to ensure the lot of you don't get expelled from school and ejected from this project. Your involvement in this is project is dependent upon you all finishing school."

Jason rolled his eyes and slumped in the chair. "Does that include having to put up with the crap from the jocks at school, too?"

Mark nodded in complete agreement. "Yeah, Sir. I have to agree with Jason on this. It's not fair that we have to put up with it and not defend ourselves. Worse still is the fact that when things happen, we are all immediately to blame for everything. The only reason we had to do what we did tonight was that Cassie was blamed for being the "instigator" in an argument at school and had her yo-yo confiscated."

Princess nodded quickly. "He's right, Sir. Every time something happens we always get the blame. Half of the time we have nothing to do with it."

Tiny grunted to add his agreement. "Just because that goon Moose's father gives the school money, doesn't mean he should be able to walk over everyone."

Anderson nodded. "Not much we can do about that. His father gives a lot to that establishment." He raised his hand before any of them could speak. "It is not an excuse, and I assure you that I will have words with the principal on Monday. That does not, however, condone your actions tonight. You should have come to me and let me sort it out."

Jason slouched further in his chair. "How about you just leave me and Moose alone in a room for thirty minutes instead. I'll guarantee you when I walk out of there we won't have anymore problems with him."

Anderson raised a brow. "As tempting as it may be for me to wipe my hands of this mess and concentrate on what is really important here, I have to say no, Jason. You know nine ways of killing a man with your pinky alone, and I am not…"

"Are you sure about that? Let's test it and analyze that assessment. Tie me up and just give me my pinky," Jason snarked with a smirk as he wriggled his pinky finger at Anderson.

Anderson actually gave a short laugh. "As I said, Jason, that is tempting. Moose's father and I have been rivals for a very long time and I would love nothing more than the opportunity to settle our score. However, this is not the forum in which to do so."

Jason shrugged. Mark seemed interested. "Rivals, Sir?"

"Forget I said that," Anderson warned. "This will not become a competition of his kids against mine."

The implication was obvious, yet it was only Princess who picked up on it. "Are you saying there are more of "us" out there, sir?"

"I'm not saying any such thing."

Mark's head slid into a tilt in Jason's direction. "You don't have to, Sir."

Silence fell in the room as each person let the new information settle in their minds. Anderson, uncomfortable by the silence and the knowledge that his wards were currently entertaining their minds with thoughts of competition, finally took a breath and rose from his seat.

"Team …" His breath held on inhale for a long moment before he let the words finally fall from his mouth. "Whatever you're thinking, forget it. Competition is best left for the moments where it matters …" He pointed to the window. "And that's when you're on the actual field of battle."

Mark offered a lazy stare in return. It was obvious he was trying to shield anyone in the room from his renewed energy at the latest offering of information. "I agree."

Anderson didn't exactly completely buy the apparent disinterest from Mark, but did his best to pretend he did. "Good, then, Mark. Now, if you will all excuse me, I must go and complete some reports."

Princess yawned and pulled herself up from the couch to lean across the table to give her "father" a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Sir. Thank you for understanding."

Anderson gave her a soft look of admiration and ran his thumb across her cheekbone. "Save the thank you until after you've received your discipline, Princess." He rose from his chair and regarded the boys with a warm smile. "Get some sleep, team. Know that I am proud of your performance this evening, even if I am disappointed in you for doing it."

Jason shrugged and thumbed at his nose as Anderson left the room. "Talk about your backhanded compliments, eh." He flicked the remote at the television and found the sports station. "So what do ya think, Mark?"

"About what?" Mark answered as he felt Princess yawn and snuggle into his side to fall asleep. He draped his arm over her shoulder and slouched down with the fingers of his other hand tucked into the waistband of his track pants.

Jason pulled Princess' feet up over his knees and lightly kneaded at her ankles with the hand not currently flicking through the sports stations. "About Moose and his cronies being our competition?"

Mark's face fell into a challenged smirk. "I think … Perhaps it's time we saw exactly what our competition is capable of."


	9. Chapter 9

Before you say it – I know this seems a little out of hand. I assure you there are reasons for this … I am going somewhere with this, I promise … 

GK

G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3

Discipline was a mild description for what the heads of the project had in store for the team the following morning. With their obvious flaws exposed out in the field, the President of the Federation had ordered each of the four to engage in solo six-month training camps in both an attempt to force them to improve, and to declare that they would have an absolute zero-tolerance policy for any mayhem the team may consider getting into in the future.

Mark had been shipped to a flight training and officer academy in Canada, Jason to a boot-camp style facility in Nevada. Tiny had been sent to study space aeronautics at NASA, with Princess remaining at the facility to work alongside retired bomb squad technicians and computer experts.

It had been a very long six-months for each member of the team – especially Mark. Training with Colonel Cronus' men at the Rangers facility was by far the most horrendous experience of his life. Somewhere inside the six-months, puberty had decided to make its grand appearance. This led to ridicule and pranks from the other men in the facility. He was at least a half-generation younger than the youngest pilot and therefore bore the brunt of jealous flyboys looking to get their one-up on him.

Cronus was of little help to him outside of the cockpit. On the one occasion that Mark had approached Cronus for assistance when one of the other pilots had replaced his water canister with a baby's bottle on a two-day bivouac, Cronus had merely laughed and told the lad to grow up and take it like a man.

Things only got worse when the heads of the Federation decided to ensure that their young Commander in training was to be groomed and "prettied" up for future press conferences. Part of this process involved braces to correct the gap in his front teeth. Now with pubescent acne and a somewhat slurred manner of talking over a mouthful of braces, Mark appeared to walk around carrying a giant target on his back. The escalation in pranks against him made him wish he was back at school fending off Moose and the other jocks.

Too bad he was to be sent back to the school to complete the year without even a day off upon his return to the city.

The shuffling in the hallway just outside the washroom door and the imminent arrival of the school bullies wasn't lost on Mark as he painfully looked at his own reflection to remove a morsel of his lunch from his braces. Having only had the painful apparatus in his mouth for a handful of months, he was still trying to get used to not being able to indulge in his favourite kinds of foods. Gum was out, as was toffee and caramel. Worse was the loss of his staple: Skittles. It wasn't so much that he wasn't allowed to eat them, just that it made eating an ordeal he wouldn't wish upon even the hulking Moose. It made his mouth hurt and his teeth groan in discomfort if he even attempted to chew them.

His current general appearance revolted him. With acne, braces, and an occasional squeak in his voice, he had become the living stereotype of the school nerd. Before he had even stepped foot into the hallways he'd encountered his schoolyard nemesis. Moose had slammed him chest first into the lockers. A pen in his pocket had broken and leaked, leaving a perfect ink arc at the base of the pocket, which had officially completed the ensemble.

He ran his tongue over his braces and grunted at his own reflection. "Man, you're one ugly sonova bitch."

Moose's voice agreed from the doorway. "You got that right, Anderson."

Mark's eyes shifted to look at Moose's reflection in the mirror. "Leave me alone."

Moose slid up behind him and made sure to bump him from behind. "Do you ever learn?"

Mark's eyes narrowed at the reflection of the bully. He briefly entertained the idea of spinning and dropping Moose with a perfectly tight round-kick, but expelled the thought with a harsh exhale of breath. "Apparently not."

Moose cracked his knuckles and lowered his head with a grin. "Shall I offer my tutoring services?"

Mark didn't answer; instead he stared at Moose's image in front of him and scrutinized his appearance.

Moose seemed to be suffering much the same annoyances of puberty that he was. His face was cratered and alive with red and yellow blotches. He had an odour that Mark was hesitant to analyze. A smell that was half rancid body odor and half a smell of festering metal filth. He could have guessed that it was a sharp rusted smell that reminded him of spilled blood, but chose not to analyze it that closely.

Moose's physique was in the throes of change. Nearly as muscular as Tiny after a training session, Moose's skin seemed to have stretched beyond its limit and looked ready to tear apart. Veins were blue and bulged in his forearms and his temple pulsed hard enough to give the lad a light tick in the eye.

Growing pains weren't obvious, but he expected much of Moose's aggression might be a side effect of a body growing too fast.

Moose felt the analysis and launched a fist at the wall beside the mirror. "Are you ignoring me, Anderson?"

Mark's eyes shot wide at the splintering hollow in the wall underneath Moose's fist. He swallowed hard and slowly shifted his head to the side to finally look his nemesis in the eye. "Quite the opposite, Moose." He gave a cautious look up and down and took a step backward. "You. You've grown a lot bigger since I saw you last."

Moose's brow twitched. "Are you checking me out? Are you gay?" He looked back at his three friends hulking at the door and thumbed back at Mark. "D'ya hear that, guys. Anderson took off to gay camp and has come back a poof looking for a little ass."

Mark rolled his eyes and groaned. "Oh grow up," he huffed as he slid around Moose and made for the doorway. He was stopped by the three friends stepping in his way, like a wall of inhuman muscle and pubescent hormones. His eyes flicked back to Moose, then to the boys in front of him. "I have Chem class to get to."

"Chem can wait," Jack, Moose's right hand man, muttered around the butt of an unlit cigarette.

"No, no," Moose smirked. "Let's have our own little chem class right here." He flicked his hand to another of his goons, who passed across a handful of marble-sized balls. "Do you know what these are, Anderson?"

Mark knew exactly what they were – Cherry bombs. He rolled his eyes. "That's a little juvenile don't you think Moose?" He asked with a flippant wave of his hand. "Cherry bombs are elementary school pranks, not high school." He pointed at the toilets. "Noone's going to cheer at you for blowing up a toilet.."

Moose sneered into Mark's face. "Who said they're going in the toilet?"

Mark shrugged. "I assumed, seeing that you're in the washroom that you're going to toss it in there." He pointed at the nearest receptacle.

Moose gave a deep throated chuckle and pointed up at an airconditioning vent. "We're going up there, Anderson.

"To do what?"

"That's my business."

Mark creased his face in annoyance and offered an incredulous posture. "Then why did you tell me?"

Moose hulked in to breathe a blast of hot, stale breath into Mark's face. "To see if you can keep your mouth shut." He took a fistful of the front of Mark's shirt and tugged him toward him. "You tell anyone, Nerd, and I'll make sure I cram the next one down your throat."

Mark's face screwed up as he attempted to pull free of Moose. "Come on, Man. This is really unnecessary don't you think?"

"What? Scaring a few cheerleaders in their changerooms, or making sure you know I'm bigger than you are?"

Mark finally snatched Moose's hand off his shirt and flicked out the creases with the backs of his fingers. "Both." He frowned. "Cheerleaders? You're going to bomb the cheerleader's changerooms?"

Moose and his friends chuckled. "Yeah. We're going to get them all freaking out and running into the corridors in their underwear. We'll be heroes, man."

Mark half-coughed at the thought of near naked women – a thought that had been reoccurring in his mind of late – and then at the inherent danger of kids with explosives. He raised his hands and shook his head as he backed through the threesome at the door. "You're going to hurt someone, Moose."

Moose sucked in a breath of air and tossed a single cherry up and down in his hand. "That someone will be you if you tell anyone."

Mark opened his mouth to attempt a talk-down, but was shoved from the washroom by Jack. He attempted to get back in, but was halted by the metal scratch of the inner bolt locking him out. He pounded both fists on the door. "Moose, don't do it, Man. You're going to hurt someone!"

The door didn't give and Mark had to back up a moment to think. He set one hand on his hip and let the other press against his forehead as he contemplated the best and fastest way of getting word out.

"Damn," he muttered softly as he drew his palm down his face.

A hand smacked hard down on his shoulder. "Hey, Mark. When did you get back?"

Mark angled his head toward Jason, who looked to be surviving puberty quite spectacularly – there was nary a blemish on his face. "I flew in this morning."

Jason looked to jerk back in a start at Mark's appearance. "Man, you look like shit. What did the fly-boys do to you out there?"

"Everything and then some." He began a walk down the hallway toward the main office. "What did they put you through?"

Jason shrugged and winked at one of the pretty blonde girls as he passed. "Nothing more than I'd get at Neptune. Be proud, though, Man. I went through three different sergeants in three months before I got sent back here."

Mark smirked. "They sent you back?"

Jason nodded and whipped a pencil from behind his ear. With a short look at it to find the best bite-point, he began to chew at its end. "Yeah. Anderson put me through hell when I got back. "

"I can only imagine."

Jason noted Mark's distracted demeanour. "Hey, everything okay?"

Mark shook his head. "Moose is messing around with cherry bombs."

Jason shrugged. "Ahh. Nothing to worry about. They're harmless. Cassie put together a couple of good ones a month back. We set 'em off in the bomb lab with a few of the techs."

Mark's brow flicked. "Why?"

"For something to do. "

"What did Anderson say about it?"

Jason chuckled. "He sent her back in the lab and told her to do better." He looked up at a familiar squeal from the end of the hallway. "And speak of the devil – there she is."

Mark spun quickly at the excited call of his name. He barely had time to register it was her before he was accosted by two large stringy pompoms sweeping past his ears as Princess launched herself at him. "Cassie?"

She repeatedly kissed his cheeks in between gushing about how much she missed him and how glad she was he was finally home.

He was warmed by her attention and let himself fall in to the moment. He _had_ missed her. He'd missed her terribly and found himself clutching onto her tightly as she fussed over him. "I missed you too, Princess. It's good to be home."

She wriggled away from him and backed off a few feet to give a little pirouette. "Look at me. I made the cheersquad. Isn't that great?"

His eyes widened at the image of her in a tiny little skirt and a fitted crop-top. More intriguing was her curvature. She didn't have hips nor breasts when he left six-months ago. He couldn't find his voice to speak until Jason chuckled beside him. "Anderson had a similar reaction to yours, Mark, only he was more mortified than …"

"Don't say it," Mark squeaked in response. "Just don't."

Princess giggled. Her face ended up obscured by the pompoms as she brought them to her mouth to cover the laugh. Her laugh quickly switched to concern as she inhaled deeply. "What the?" She dropped the pompoms on the floor and moved in toward Mark to smell his shirt. When he attempted to back away in surprise, she grabbed a handful of the shirt and moved her head in to smell it.

Mark was confused. "Princess?"

She kept hold on the shirt and raised her eyes in warning question. "Why do you smell like sulphur and Potassium Chlorate?"

He shifted his gaze to Jason. "Like what?"

Jason's brow rose. "You can smell that?"

Princess didn't let go. "Mark. Why can I smell it on you?"

He shook his head at her. "I don't know, Cassie. I haven't been near the explosives …" His breath hitched in hard. "Moose!"

Princess eyes widened wide and horrified. "No, Mark. Don't tell me he's playing with that combination. That's dangerous."

Jason shrugged. "It's just cherry bombs, Cass. He'll make a bang, but that's it."

She shook her head. "No, Jason. That's not the component of a cherry bomb. That's a flash charge, and if he's got enough of it …" Her breath drew in hard enough to redden her face. "My God. If he's using an old mix …"

Mark took her by the upper arm and began to run them down the corridor toward the gymnasium. "How bad is it?"

"How much does he have?"

"Five bombs."

"how big?"

Mark held on to his breath in thought and concern for Princess' worry. "I don't know, Cass, maybe about 30 grams a piece?"

She spun on her heel. "30? Are you sure?" She held her finger and thumb a good distance apart to confirm size. "That's, like, this big."

Mark pursed his lips. "Okay, maybe not _that_ big, but they were larger than your average Cherry."

Her breath came out as a whimper of panic. "Still bad."

Mark nodded and brought them to a stop outside the girls change room. "He and his boys are going through the duct work to get in there, Princess. They said they want to scare the girls into running out of here naked."

She tugged hard on the door to open it. "More like he'll kill and injure all of them." She looked at them as if to ask if they were going to follow, and groaned when Jason pointed at the "Girls" sign on the door. "Well, then hold it open for me will you?"

Mark shifted from foot to foot as he heard Princess bellow for everyone to get out of the changeroom. If Princess was worried about the small amount on his shirt, then the quantities he saw in Moose's possession must be lethal. The thought of her going in alone nearly drove him out of his mind.

"Jason, I gotto get in there and help her."

Jason bit on his lower lip and grunted as a bunch of squealing girls began to push past him. "I know, Mark. But we can't …" He heard the crash of sheet aluminum and the heavy thud of four bodies falling on the ground. "Forget the rules, I'm not leaving her at their mercy," he spat as he pushed into the throng of women to get inside.

"Cassie, you alright?" Jason barked as he skidded to a stop just inside the change area. He gaped when he felt Mark accidentally slam him from behind and saw the little cheerleader stoop into a crouch in front of Moose and his friends, who had fallen through the thin aluminium vent and were slowly rising to their feet.

"Moose," she warned darkly as her eyes locked on the explosives. "Give me the bombs."

He looked down at her, and then at the cluster of bombs in his palm. "No."

Her fingertips brushed on the tiled floor as if attempting to grasp at something. They finally settled as a five-padded stand for her to lean on. "You don't know what you're playing with. That isn't a cherry bomb."

Moose's brow flicked high and he taunted her by tossing one charge into his other hand to toss it up and down. "Yeah it is."

She shook her head, gasping in fear with every slap of the bomb onto the boy's palm. "No, Moose. That's a flash mix. Please stop throwing it like that; you'll kill us all."

He laughed. "And you're an expert on death and destruction and things that go boom?"

She knew Mark and Jason were behind her simply by the snarling stances of the rest of Moose's entourage. If she got into a physical altercation with any of the boys, she'd have back-up, but that was the last thing she needed right now. She raised her eyes to the boy with the explosives. "Moose. Please. You don't realize what you have there."

"Yeah I do," he snapped harshly. "I made them myself. Now get out of my way little girl, before I throw one at you."

Jason's voice crooned in from behind. "I think the roids are destroying what's left of your brain, Moose. Give the charges to Princess before you kill us all."

Princess watched in horror as Moose drew his arm back as if to throw one of his explosives at Jason. Without a second thought, she pushed her fingers into the ground and found her leverage to launch herself from the ground. She spun in place and cradled her hands out in front of her as she slammed her shoulder into Moose's chest. As she had hoped, Moose's hold on the charges failed and each of the bombs fell into her hands.

"Get out of my way," she yelled as she bolted out of the room and into the hallway.

Mark, painfully aware that a fight was imminent, grabbed Jason by the shirt collar and dragged him into a sprint behind Princess. "Forget them, Jase. Worry about Cassandra."

Princess was aware of nothing. She didn't count on, nor know, that the boys were half a step behind her. All she knew was that she had almost 100 grams of unstable explosive in her palms and she had to get rid of it before the inevitable happened.

"Out of my way. Out of my way," she chanted loudly as she ducked and weaved through the hallway toward the exit.

Even before she got to the open doors, she looked for the best escape and detonation point in the schoolyard. She knew the final bang would be fierce and wanted to ensure that if anyone was going to get hurt in this, it would be her and her alone. Her answer came in the form of her older brother. Tiny crouched in a group on the football field in preparation for the next play in their lunchtime game.

"Tiny!" She screamed upon sighting him. "I need a boost!"

His head flicked up in her direction. All curiosity in what the hell she was talking about shattered when he saw the little red balls in her hand. He narrowed his gaze and immediately cradled both hands in front of him. He boomed an order to the other boys on the field. "Alright, everyone clear off! Cassie, I got you, girl."

She didn't think twice about using him as a set of stairs. She stepped one foot into his hands and the other onto his shoulder to launch herself high in the air. She brought both arms around her and tossed the cluster of bombs into the air in front.

She ignored the worried cry of her name from Mark and pulled her yo-yo from her waistband. With a loud grunt of exertion she fired it at one of the bombs with the plan to detonate them before they hit the ground..

The explosion, in Mark's eyes, was unprecedented in any school ground. There was a high, bright white flash followed by a hot, red and orange ball that coughed and grew with one explosion after another. The ball seemed to pulse and contract before expanding out with another, and another, bomb blast. He would have described it as somewhat beautiful if he hadn't caught sight of Princess being thrown backward by the hot shockwave of the explosion.

His eyes flared in panic. "Cassandra!"

She didn't really hear him call out to her. She was so mesmerized by the beauty of the fireball that she found she was unable to focus on anything else. That was until the expanding fire started it's chase on her. She almost swore that she could see a giant orange hand emerge from the fireball to draw her inside it. She lost her ability to breathe in panic that she was about to face her demise in the same way her parents had done.

Before she could utter a desperate plea for salvation, she felt a strong hand find hers and then a cooling breeze as she was pulled from the fire, drawn into a chest and spun into a crouch on the ground. A brief hot wave washed over them both, and then it was quiet.

She panted quickly, but softly, as she gripped hard on the t-shirt she was nestling in to. "Thank you, Mark," she whispered softly.

His arms tightened around her to pull her in closer. "Are you okay?"

She clutched at his shirt and nestled enough into his shoulder that she was only able to peer at the falling remnants of the explosion. "Wow," she breathed against him. "What was he thinking?"

"I don't think he was."

Jason appeared shaken as he stood beside them and set his hands on his hips. "If that had've gone off in the school …" he shook his head. "Man, I don't want to think about it."

Tiny agreed, although he wasn't entirely sure about what had happened in the lead up to the explosion. "Woulda taken out half the school."

Princess tightened her arms around her saviour and kept her eyes on a scorch mark on the grass. "Mark. Something is wrong with Moose and his friends."

"You got that right," Jason agreed with a huff. "This is way beyond bullying."

Mark nodded and released Princess to draw himself to a stand. He held down his hand to offer her assistance to stand beside him. "Anderson said, once, that they were our competition." At three nods he continued. "Did any of you get the chance to look into who they really are?"

Princess swept her hair from her face and nodded. "I looked into both teams." She cowered guiltily under the stunned stares of Mark and Jason. "Well I want to know who we are, too."

"And what did you find out?"

"About us?" She watched Mark shake his head and bobbed her head from side to side in a flirty nod. "Oh, them. Uh, nothing really. Every time I got close to infiltrating their networks, I'd get this creepy little Space Invaders symbol pop up telling me I was very naughty."

Tiny's brow flicked. "Space Invaders?"

She hooked the index fingers of both hands under her chin as if trying to impersonate the image. "You know, from that game? The little Martian things you shoot down."

Mark's brow flicked, but it was Jason who responded. "You gotto be shittin' me?"

She smirked and gave a shrug. "I guess their agency loves Martians?"

Mark pouted. "Or they're on the other side."

She tilted her head innocently. "What do you mean?"

Before he could answer there was a sound of several hand-held weapons clicking off their safeties. "Hold it right there. Get down on your knees with your hands behind your head."

Mark and Jason immediately stepped in front of Princess and held their hands out defensively in front of them. When he saw at least half of the county's police force armed in front of them, Jason let out a defeated moan.

"Oh, Anderson's going to have our asses for this."


	10. Chapter 10

Mark knew for a fact that he and his team were in trouble. Even if he put aside the fact that the police had been called and that there were suspensions applied and the threat of expulsion once the investigation was complete, the sheer fact that Anderson had not come to the school to get them …

… Well that was the prime indicator that their troubles were far from over.

The four of them were silent as they sat in the back of the Federation limousine, with none looking at another. They were all preparing themselves for whatever the repercussions had to offer them, and Mark carefully analyzed the sounds each made as they worked it through their minds.

Before the first teacher had arrived in the playground Mark had decided to take the fall for the incident. Jason, Tiny and Princess were merely innocent parties only trying to protect the other children on the premises. It was true that he was, also, but he felt it was his duty to stand up and take the hit for his team. He would not allow them to receive reprimand when all they were trying to do was what they'd been trained to do.

Pretty much the whole thing was Anderson's fault anyway. If he hadn't had Princess so finely tuned into the different chemical aromas of every explosive compound known to man then she wouldn't have detected it on his shirt. She wouldn't have flicked into a protective hen and rushed in to try and save everyone.

… She wouldn't have almost gotten hurt.

His eyes slid to her. She chewed on her thumbnail and sat in a terrified seat beside him. Her eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them and barely blinked. She looked scared.

Without conscious thought, he took her hand in his as gave it a tight squeeze. "Don't worry, Princess,"

Her big green eyes had a red rim when she looked back at him. "We're in so much trouble, Mark, and it wasn't even our fault."

"I know," he whispered in reply. "Don't worry. I'll take the blame for it."

She shook her head. "No."

He kept his voice low and calming. "Yes, Cassie. I'm not going to let you get in trouble for doing what you were trained to do."

She leaned against him and held onto his hand tight. "And let Mr. Anderson take you away from us again?" Her head shook. "I only just got you back."

He let out a breath of a laugh at her words. "I missed you too, Princess."

"I really like it when you call me that, Mark."

He smoothed his hand over her hair. "So do I." His eyes fell to Jason, who looked upon the pair with a single raised brow. "What?"

Jason gave Tiny a couple of teasing jabs with his elbow. "They make such a cute couple, don't they?"

At the comment, Princess sharply pulled away from Mark. She dipped her head in embarrassment. "We're not a couple," she whimpered softly. "Stop teasing me."

Jason smirked and made kissing sounds. "I know you want to, Cass. I know you think about him every night when you go to bed. You want him to kiss you."

Mark narrowed his eyes at Jason. He knew why he was resorting to teasing poor Princess – it was his way of hiding that he was as terrified of the consequences as the rest of them. "Jason, leave her alone," he growled.

Jason's eyes narrowed in challenge. "What are you going to do if I don't?"

"Introduce your nose to the window," he snapped back. "Just because you're freaked out doesn't mean you have to take it out on Princess."

Jason gruffly folded his arms across his chest. "Can if I want."

Mark curled a lip. "You are such a brat."

Jason flipped him the bird in rebuttal.

Fortunately for the integrity of the limousine's structure, and the general sanity of the driver, the harsh braking at the facility's front door saved any fight from breaking out. As the side door opened to let them out, Mark pointed toward Jason. "Let me do the talking in there, okay, Jason? I don't need you running off your mouth if we're going to make it out of here in one piece."

Jason shrugged as he let Princess climb out of the car in front of him. "Whatever."

Princess immediately shrank under the glare of Anderson when she climbed out of the car. Of all three, she was the one in the most trouble. It was she who had bolted from the building with the explosives in her hand and it was she who detonated each small bomb. The large burn mark on pretty blue and yellow cheerleading skirt was testament to the information of her being the closest to the blast. She gripped tightly at the hem of the skirt in an effort to hide it.

"Hello, Sir," she managed meekly.

Anderson kept his hand in his pocket, a hand that was quite obviously pumping in and out of a fist. "Hello to you too," he snapped as he turned and walked inside, absolutely expecting his team to follow him. "I am very disappointed in all of you."

Mark strode up quickly to fall in pace beside the project head. "Sir. This is not Princess' fault."

"I suppose it's all your fault, Mark," he growled in response as he led them into a large office.

"Actually it is," Mark said firmly with confidence. "I was the one with Moose and his friends when…"

Anderson spun abruptly and glared down on Mark to cease all further explanation. "Princess was the one with the explosives in her hand. She was also the one who let them all detonate."

"She also saved half the school, Sir."

Anderson angled his head in a manner to suggest he had not received all of the information at hand on the incident. "I have not had you kids in training all of these years for you to pull childish pranks in the schoolyard."

Jason intervened. "Hey, this wasn't a prank, Sir." He thumbed back at Princess, who was partially cowering against the wall. "Cassie recognized a danger and neutralized it – just like you've trained her to do. Rather than being all pissy, maybe you should tell her well done for saving everyone."

Anderson shot his stare at Jason. "What she should have done … What you all should have done, was notify a teacher that there was a suspicious substance on school property." He took a pen from his pocket and clicked it repeatedly in irritation. "These constant calls from the school regarding your mischief and bullshit is making my job in protecting all of you very difficult."

Mark found himself snarling. "Yeah. Well how about us? With you and that damn school not willing to look into what actually happens in the schoolyard, and actually do something about it to make our lives easier, then what do you expect."

Anderson spun on Mark. "Don't you dare raise your voice at me, Commander."

"I wouldn't have to raise my voice if you would actually open your ears and listen."

Anderson let out a low growl at being challenged by a pimply little teen. "Mark. You have been back, what, five hours? Five hours and I am already having to shovel you out of …"

Princess' voice shrilly called from the wall. "Stop it!"

Anderson and Mark shot their gazes to her. Mark's heart broke at the sight of her.

Her eyes and cheeks were messy with tears, enough that her hair was sticky and damp from her wiping at them with the back of her hand. Her burned skirt was skewed to the side and her cheerleading shirt torn down one side. Her whole posture screamed absolute misery, from her hands clutching at her hair, to her forward-bent stance and turned in leg. Her body bubbled with shortened breaths as she vainly attempted to control her tears. When she tried to speak, it had to form over sobs and deep gulps.

"Please just stop!"

Mark's posture dropped as he practically swallowed his heart. "Oh, Princess."

She shook her head and rushed to Anderson. "Please don't take him away again, Sir."

Anderson gasped and shirked back as the young woman threw herself at him and clutched his shirt to beg. "Princess, I…"

Her head shook as she let herself collapse completely into her turmoil. "It wasn't his fault. It wasn't our fault." Her breaths were deep and uncontrolled as she battled through. "Jason and Mark. They. They were only trying to help." She wiped her eyes on his shirt to attempt to look up at him with any level of clarity. "I did it. But I was only trying to do the right thing."

Anderson found himself looking to Mark for help. The future G-Force commander merely opened his arms and shrugged as though at a loss.

Princess sobbed on. "Everything … Everyone I love is here. You take them away from me and you take away my whole heart." Her body shook again as an exhale snagged on a sob. "You, Mark, Jason, Tiny, all of you are my family. I … I…" She looked up at him. "You're like my Daddy, Sir. Father's aren't supposed to break their little girl's hearts. I'm so sorry for what happened. So sorry." Her head dropped into his shirt and she let out another series of loud and desperate sobs. 'Don't break us apart. I'm so sorry. I'll do anything you want, just keep us together."

Anderson blinked hard and slow. What could he do? How could he possibly deny this little girl anything in the world she wanted? He found himself circling his arms around her to hold her as she wept.

"Princess, I'm so sorry," he cooed softly, somewhat unsure about how to truly handle such a situation. She was so tiny in his hold and so sad at the thought of something hurting her family.

Father. She had told him she thought of him as a father.

He gave her a tight squeeze. "I promise you I won't separate you again, Princess,' he vowed inside a shaking voice of his own. "I'm very sorry to have scared you like that."

She nodded and let out a few more solid sobs. "Please fix this," she pleaded.

He pulled back and looked into her face as he stroked her hair lovingly a couple of times. "I will, Princess." He blinked his eyes and looked around at the three stunned boys in the room with them. His eyes were misted, and he found himself having to clear his throat before he could speak.

"Team. I will handle this."

Without a second breath, he strode quickly out of the room to leave the foursome alone with their thoughts.

Mark immediately drew Princess into his arms to attempt to comfort her. "Oh, Cassie. I'm so sorry."

Her breath settled and she turned her head against his chest to look conspiratorially toward the door. "Do you think it worked?"

Jason let out a cough that was in perfect synchronicity as a laugh from Tiny. Mark pulled back abruptly and stared into her red eyes in complete disbelief. "Cassandra?"

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her wrist and jogged to the doorway to peer into the hallway. When she saw all was clear, she readjusted her clothing to a much more comfortable and less desperate looking state. Her eyes rose to Mark, who looked on her in shock.

"What?" She asked quietly.

He blinked and dropped one brow in confusion. "That was all fake?"

She rolled her eyes and closed the door behind them, well aware that the walls had ears. "Oh it was all true, what I said." She tipped her ear to one shoulder. "I just figured that you weren't getting anywhere with arguing, so I tried a different tactic."

"But, Cassie. That's so …"

"So awesome," Jason chuckled.

Mark shook his head. "But it's all a lie, and lying is wrong."

She groaned. "No it wasn't a lie. The tears, well…" She shuffled her feet a little. "Okay, well, they were exaggerated." Her eyes rose quickly. "But I meant every word I said. You guys are everything to me."

Jason screwed up his face. "Oh God. No I don't want to hear it."

Princess smiled and slid up to him. She nudged him with her shoulder. "I know you feel the same way, Jason."

His mouth opened and he raised a finger to argue. Before he got a word out, however, he gave her a smile and opened the door to leave. "Just don't make me admit it, okay?"

"I won't," she giggled.

She fell in step behind Jason and giggled when Mark put his arm over her shoulder to join the walk to their rooms. "I still don't like that kind of game, Princess. But thanks for getting us out of hot water."

She nestled into his side and grinned. "You're welcome."


	11. Chapter 11

Before I get to this chapter I need to say a really big thank you to Transmute Jun, aka TJ, for having a fast scoot over the first section. It wasn't a beta read, so do not blame any errors on her, but she pointed out something I missed and suggested a fix. I stole the complete line and threw it in here … :grin:

Also,a warning. This section has some make-out naughtiness in it between a Swan and Eagle … It's not too naughty, but I felt I should warn thee lest you loathe smooches and fondles.

Oh and thanks to Fionabeingme for giving me a nudge to keep writing this fic…

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

Seventeen was not an easy age to get to when you were a genetically enhanced _mutant_ with heightened sensory function. It was worse, still, when this particular _mutant_ of science, although extremely intelligently advanced, was stunted still in the painful transition between being a kid and becoming a man.

I.e., puberty.

It was his belief that by 17 he should have suffered and already survived the worst that this transition had to offer, but as the days, weeks and months wore on, Mark was finding more and more new symptoms of this _disease_ making their appearances with the express purpose of making his life an absolute living hell. Worse was that each new problem became a much more humiliating predicament than the last one had been.

The latest in his hell had been … spontaneous arousal.

As if anything in his life couldn't get any worse, now he had to deal with the sudden and humiliating rise of his flag at any time a certain budding young woman strolled by. And when he meant budding, he was not kidding about it. Princess was shape shifting between girl and woman faster than should be human, and the suddenly tight shirts and pants she wore were beginning to take their toll on this hormonally crippled young man.

Training with her was torture.

In the last two months he had been forced to leave the training room four times mid-session after his close encounters left him in a state of pure embarrassment. The instructors either didn't realize his pain, or were revelling in his discomfort. The last had been particularly shameful. A collision during a sparring session had seen him land on top of her and her legs wrap either side of his hips. It was purely accidental and entirely innocent, but their landing fell into such perfect position that his lower half immediately reacted to it.

His nose was in the crevice below her ear and his breath hot against her skin and before he realized what he was doing, Mark had dragged his open mouth down her neck to her shoulder. It wasn't until he heard her whimper in a way he'd never heard before that he found his control and had torn away from her.

It was not a slow and amused withdrawal of himself from her, it was a heated, sharp and violent leap that ended as more of a hurried scuffle of horror than a man apologizing for falling on her in the first place. He didn't get up of his hands and knees until he made it to the doorway, at which time he bolted to his room and collapsed onto his bed.

He tried to find ways to forget her green eyes and slender figure. He tried to convince himself she was a sister, not a potential conquest. She was six months shy of her sixteenth birthday, still legally untouchable.

Untouchable.

That was the one thing in this world he wanted to do the most to her. To touch her. To feel her. To use what puberty was forcing him to endure to make her want him as much as he wanted her.

These feelings were driving him insane enough to want to hide away from her. He assured himself that it was for her safety – he feared that he just might lose all control and attack.

This is what brought him to what could possibly the single most embarrassing conversation he felt he would ever have to endure in his life: A discussion of birds and bees and teenage hormones with his mentor, Dr. Anderson. He had thought about asking Jason for advice, but the ribbing and humiliation he would likely suffer from such a request would be far greater than the embarrassment created by the alternative. And so he found himself outside of Chief Anderson's door.

He had to take a long few breaths before he could bring himself to knock on the office door. As his knuckles tightened, whitened, to rap as confidently as he felt he could, Anderson opened the door. His nose was, as usual, buried within the pages of a report on an old wooden clipboard, but not to much that he didn't see the young man in the doorway.

"Mark," he said, startled. "What are you doing here?"

Mark actually found himself shuffling his foot on the floor. "I wondered if you had a minute."

Anderson checked his watch. "I have thirty, actually." He took a step back and invited Mark in with a wave of his hand. "Is everything okay?"

Mark winced a little, and hesitated, but strode in once he had thrust his hands in his pockets and slouched. "I have a problem I need your advice on."

Anderson took note of the usually confident young man and pursed his lips in worry. "Take a seat."

Mark did so and slouched in several different poses before he found comfort with crossed legs and a heavy slump. "I don't know if you can help me out with this."

Anderson took a seat behind his desk and set his elbows on the table to thoughtfully set his chin on steepled fingers. "I can try."

Mark spent a few seconds squirming before he could form the question. "Is there any drug you could give me, or maybe a needle or something to … uh …" His face flushed and he embarrassedly indicated down toward his crotch. "To stop this …uh…?"

Anderson felt like he was probably supposed to react with shock and discomfort of his own, but found himself actually giving a smile. He'd had a similar conversation with the other two older males of the team a year or so back. "No, Mark. That is a normal biological function that is absolutely necessary …"

"You can't tell me that _this _is normal," Mark hissed in interruption. "It's going off on its own tangents and … well … it's getting embarrassing."

Anderson was smiling – he couldn't help it. "Mark, all men go through it. It is just one of those lessons in control."

Mark shook his head. "You're not exactly hearing me, Sir. I have no control over it." His eyes rose and actually had a strong flash of annoyance in them. "According to the books on the subject, this was supposed to be something that was supposed to happen when I was 13, not 17."

Anderson nodded. "If you were born to Earth parents Mark."

Mark's eyes shot up quickly. "If I was what?"

Anderson blew a breath of air out of the side of his mouth. "I suppose this is something I should have discussed with you before now." He let his hands drop from his chin and laid one forearm on the table. The other moved into his pocket as he sat back in his own chair. "Mark. Your parents were, for lack of a better word, alien."

Mark's expression was one of complete surprise. "Alien?"

Anderson nodded shortly. "I understand that the word Alien isn't exactly politically correct these days, but in this case I feel it appropriately outlines why your transition into a young man may seem somewhat slowed compared to the other boys."

Mark cleared his throat. "Oh."

"If it makes you feel any better, Commander, you will pass through this stage of evolution somewhat faster than a man born to Earth parents." He looked down at a file on his desk. "Add to that we have ways of separating you from fellow Rigan women on base…"

Mark's posture straightened. "I'm Rigan?"

Anderson gave a nod. "Yes, your mother and father were both Rigan. Unlike another member of your team, you are not what is considered – rather insultingly – as a half-breed."

Mark's head angled to one side. "Half breed, sir?"

"It is an insulting term that I abhor, but it is an unavoidable part of assimilation of the interplanetary races." His finger tapped on the table. "Initially there were concerns from the scientific groups as to the viability of such mixed babies, but there ended up being no major complications without physiological and biological structures being so similar. Our young boy, Keyop, is a perfectly engineered mix of several interplanetary species."

"I see," Mark sighed softly. "Is Princess the half-breed you speak of?"

Anderson shook his head. "Due to the continuing investigation of her parent's death her files have been sealed as to their heritage and identity. I assume that she is a full Earthling, based upon her biology."

His eyes raised slowly. "Biology," he breathed softly. "That isn't exactly my favourite word right now."

Anderson found himself able to chuckle. "Trust me, Mark. We men all feel that way when we head through this transition. In time it will pass, and you'll find you'll have far more control over yourself than any man born on Earth." He inhaled deeply. "You'll only react to women from your home planet, so I can arrange different instructors until it passes." He gave a short frown. "Although, I didn't think we had you training with female Rigans." His eyes shot up fast. "You aren't reacting to the male members of your species are you?"

Mark found himself gagging at the suggestion. "Oh God no. No. No. Absolutely not. And please don't refer to it as species – that just sounds wrong."

Anderson pursed his lips to hide a smirk. "Then it is someone at school?"

He shook his head. "No, Sir. It is someone here on base." He buried his head in his hands as his entire body slumped again. "Cassandra."

Anderson's eyes shot open. "Princess?" He shook his head in confusion. "That can't be right, Mark. It's scientifically established that at your age you should only find interest in a Rigan woman."

He spoke through his fingers. "I guess that makes me a freak, then, right?" He humphed. "I knew it."

"Or," Anderson suggested. "Princess has Rigan blood flowing through her veins." He slowly drew himself to a stand and began to pace. "It makes sense. She is hyper intelligent for someone her age, and it would also account for the colour of her hair and skin – which I had initially assumed was only a side effect to the implant." He spun and looked at Mark, who was still slumped and despondent with his head in his hands. "And would also account for the instant connection between the two of you."

Mark peered at him through his fingers. "What do you mean?"

Anderson tapped at his lip and ceased his walk. "You and she are so much more than siblings raised together. When she came to us, you immediately fell into an easy pace beside her. You and she are in such perfect synch with each other that to separate you to even different rooms has a detrimental effect on you both."

Mark groaned long. "You make it sound like a pre-ordained kind of thing." He rose in his seat but fell straight back in a slouch. "Like, what, is she sending me subliminal horny messages or something?"

Anderson pursed his lips and shook his head. "No. Not exactly. Chances are that she will be completely non-responsive to your advances. Rigan women are not as receptive to the advances as an Earth girl would be. They don't seek sexual gratification until they are ready to conceive. So do not be surprised if she rebuffs you … should you go ahead and try to make an advance."

Mark's interest was piqued. "Is that a green light to do so, Sir?"

Anderson's whole face lengthened in complete surprise. "Well it would appear that you _are_ in the deepest throes of your agony to even entertain such a notion, Commander. Any green lights will come from Princess, and Princess only." He stalked back to his seat. "I will not dictate with whom you can experience your affections, but be warned that if the two of you cross that line that I will be keeping a close eye on things." He sat down heavily. "She is my little girl, Commander, and I will ensure that noone, especially you, will bring her to harm."

"I will heed that warning," he muttered into his hand as his eyes flicked to one side.

Anderson rubbed at his brow and then removed his glasses from his face. "Tell me. Have you approached her on this?"

Mark shook his head and kept his eyes away from his mentor. "No, Sir. All I have been doing is running from her."

"Have you been releasing your own pressure upon escape?"

Mark coughed loudly and immediately reddened. "What? Do we really need to talk about that?"

Anderson's head angled to one side. His expression read scientist. "Auto eroticism is an essential part of this process, Mark." His expression did not change. "I encourage it."

Mark shot up out of his chair and began to pace. "I am not discussing that with you. It's personal and extremely inappropriate."

"And vitally essential if you wish to make it through this in one piece," he finished blandly. "You don't have it in you to go prowling, Mark." He clicked in a breath of air. "You might find it helpful to maintain your focus and detachment to Princess if you release your energies before having to train or work alongside her."

Mark folded his arm across his chest and winced. "Okay, this conversation is really beginning to…"

"You came to me on this, Mark. I am only telling you the answers you were seeking. They might not be what you wanted to hear, but it's the truth."

Mark shuddered. "This is humiliating."

"We've all been through it, Commander."

Mark was quiet for a second as he absorbed the information and willed for the ground to open up and swallow him. With a defeated sigh he finally spoke. "This is short-lived, Sir?"

Anderson nodded as he pressed the tip of the arms of his glasses to his lip. "In no time you'll be back to normal and will understand to some degree just how…"

"Will the need stop?"

Anderson was initially annoyed by the interruption. He cleared his throat and let Mark's question dance in his mind's eye for a moment. "It's not a need as much as a want, Mark. It will end soon enough."

He took a long breath. "So what do I do in the meantime?" He cleared his throat. "Aside from your earlier suggestion?"

"There's not much else I can suggest, Mark. It's just something you have to work through yourself."

Mark groaned painfully. "So aside from finding out I am an alien being, I am no better off than I was before I came to you."

"No," Anderson suggested softly. "But I am. I do appreciate you coming to me on this, Mark. I will do my best to separate you both until this passes."

"I'd appreciate it, Sir."

Anderson walked to his office door and opened it. He paused midway between open and closed and took another look at his ward. "She will wonder what she has done to offend you, I warn you of that. She worships the very ground you walk on and a forced separation will upset her."

"It will be better than me storming out of training sessions when it becomes too much, Sir."

Anderson gave a short laugh at Mark's sudden candidness. "Your father had a small shack on an airfield off base. I will look into acquiring the deed and perhaps allow you to reside out there." He kissed the air in thought. "That may, perhaps, give you a little respite."

Mark's eyes widened. "Really?"

Anderson gave a shrug. "I can't keep you all locked up in here for the rest of your lives. You should all be granted leave outside of duty. I may as well begin that process now." He exhaled a breath. "You're a man, now, Mark. It's time."

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

Mark was still reeling from his conversation with Anderson a full twelve hours after the meeting. It wasn't so much the rather squeamish nature of the original topic broached that had him still thinking about it after all this time - he knew perfectly well that the conversation was not going to be pleasant and enjoyable given the nature of the topic – it was more the discovery of his heritage that swam through his mind right now.

Rigan.

It should hardly have been surprising that at least one member of the team was Rigan. After all, Riga was Earth's closest trading ally and defence point. It should have been less surprising, still, that it was he who was the Rigan member. Colonel Cronus was a proud Rigan, as were all his pilots. His involvement in the G-Force project was now perfectly clear. He was there to ensure that Riga's placement in the team was trained to their planet's code so to represent them appropriately.

Mark shuddered as he felt the weight of yet another burden press down on his shoulders.

Obviously the lack of real resolution in his dilemma with hormones was on his mind, but while Anderson stayed true to his word and kept Princess away from him, it didn't garner too much thought.

He tossed a miniature foam basketball in the air above his face and lobbed it into a basket on the wall when there was a gentle knock on his door. He slid off the bed and padded on bare feet to open it. His smile faltered somewhat to find the target of his worry standing shyly on the other side.

"Princess?"

She was unusually shy when she answered, and spent a good few moments looking everywhere else but at him as she searched for words. She made do with holding out a small bundle of clothing in front of her. "Hi Mark. Um. Mr. Anderson wanted you to put these on and meet him in training room three in about an hour."

Mark licked at his lip and nodded quickly as he shifted to swipe the clothing from her. "Oh, thanks, Princess." Without a second thought he began to close the door on her. It wasn't until he heard her gasp that he paused. 'Was there something else?"

Her eyes finally shifted to his. Wide, green, and incredibly confused, they asked the question before she did.

"Have I done something to upset you?"

Mark shook his head quickly. "No, Cassie. Not at all. Why would you think that?"

She shuffled her feet, lowered her eyes and shrugged. "Well. Normally you would have invited me in." She inhaled. "Normally I wouldn't be told that I wasn't allowed to come see you." Her eyes rose again. "Normally you wouldn't get mad and run out of training with me."

His gaze softened to one of apology. "Oh I'm sorry, Princess. I didn't mean to make you feel like that, I just wasn't…" he took a breath "feeling well."

She immediately stepped in to his room and pressed herself against his chest. She used the press of her against him to rise comfortably to her toes to check his temperature. "You don't feel hot," she breathed softly. "Is it your belly?"

Mark's eyes flashed at her proximity and the effect it was beginning to have on him. Without regard he abruptly snatched himself away from her and turned toward his bed. "Uh. No. I'm okay now."

Her hands shot as fists to her mouth. She couldn't fight the sting of tears in her eyes at the thought that she had royally screwed up. "Mark. Whatever I did I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

He heard the waver in her voice and turned quickly to assure her she wasn't doing anything wrong. "No. No, Cassie. It's not you. I'm just not myself right now."

"Is there something I can do to help?" She questioned softly.

There were several answers in his mind to respond to her question, but instead he simply made do by sitting on his bed and taking a long look at her. "I'm okay, Prin. Honest I am."

She shook her head. "Why don't I believe you?"

He smiled and tilted his head at her. "Because you know me so well." It was at that moment that he noticed what she was wearing, and how different it was to her usual attire. Rather than a pretty dress or skirt, or even the occasional mini-shorts, she stood before him in an obscenely tight green shirt with red sleeves and a large number three on the front, paired with a white and pink pair of jeans. He found the ensemble somewhat amusing and flicked a brow at her. "Cute outfit, Princess."

She rolled her eyes and groaned. Rather than do her usual pirouette and presentation of the clothing, she merely shook her head. "Isn't it awful?"

"I wouldn't say awful," he offered with a smile. "But it is unusual."

"Unusual means bad," she sighed as she boldly flopped onto the mattress beside Mark. "You know, I think when it comes to picking uniforms they shouldn't leave it to the fashionistically-retarded Mr. Anderson to design."

Mark chuckled beside her as his mind counted to 10 and then 20 and then 100.

She continued on, though. "You laugh, Mark. But he's got you in white jeans and a number one shirt."

His eyes fell to the outfit he held on his thighs, but he did not lift it to look. "Really? So you're number three?"

She giggled and hooked her arm through his to snuggle close and conspiratorially. "And you're number one. My one and only number one," she sang teasingly.

He forced a chuckle as he became painfully aware of her soft jasmine perfume and the charged way it began to fire against his self-control. He wanted to jerk away from her, but feared doing so might upset her again. He continued to count in his mind as he took deep breaths.

She noticed his discomfort and pulled to one side. "Mark. Are you sure you're okay?"

He nodded, but winced. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

He gave her the most brilliant smile he could muster and winked. "I promise you."

"Good," she whispered as she set her hands on the edge of the mattress either side of her knees and rocked forward. Her legs crossed at the ankle and she seemed to shy away from him a little. "I have a favour to ask you."

"Of course," he answered quickly, somewhat alarmed that she'd be so shy around him. "Anything. Just name it."

Her chin tilted up to allow her to look at him through her bangs. "Anything?"

He smiled. "I am here to serve. Just say the word and I will do anything your beautiful little heart desires."

She rocked against him. "Stop being facetious."

"Seriously, Princess. Just ask."

She pursed her lips and looked off to the side. "Will you kiss me?"

The question made him frown, but he complied with a smile and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "How's that?"

She bit at her lip and shook her head. "No, I mean _really_ kiss me."

The counting in his mind ceased immediately as his entire focus shifted to those six words. It was as though each of his senses held their breath in wait for him to make his move. Each was disappointed when he managed to squeak out a single solitary word, "Why?"

She bit at her thumbnail and pushed herself to a stand. "Well." She began to pace. "I have a date this evening, and…"

"A date?" he choked out; the absolute disappointment in his voice unhidden.

She shuffled her foot on the floor and nodded. "Yes. One of the guys on the football team asked me to see a movie with him tonight." Her eyes shifted to Mark, but failed to notice his hurt look. "The girls on the cheersquad set it up."

"Oh, okay."

She nodded, her eyes wide and somewhat terrified. "But. But I don't know how to date, Mark. I don't know what to do and how to kiss a boy."

He blinked several times to shake a jealous wave from his shoulders. "Is it that important to have to kiss him, Cassie? I mean, that shouldn't be an issue. If you don't want to then you don't have to."

She quickly sat next to him and grabbed his hand with both of hers. "But, Mark. The other girls said that I have to, that it's what dating is all about." Her grip on his hand was tight. "But I don't know how. If I go in there with no training and mess it up…" She looked down and reddened. "Then I'll be so embarrassed and everyone will make fun of me at school."

He was surprised at how suddenly juvenile she sounded. His Princess was usually so much more in control and mature than this. "Cassie, don't let them pressure you. If you're not ready…"

"But that's the thing," she sighed softly. "I am ready. I want to start to experiment and play and know what it's like to be … well … kissed."

He took a deep breath and stunned himself when the brain-to-mouth filter failed and he found himself admitting the same thing. "Me too, Cass."

She blinked at his admission and gave him a smile. "Then will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Teach me how to kiss?"

He felt a shudder as she leaned closer to him and wet her lips. He swallowed hard. "Princess, I really don't think…" His words were eaten as she set her hands on his knees and pressed her lips against his. He felt her tongue flick at his top lip and found what little resolve he had left simply crumble and die away.

The light was flashing green and inside a massive gulp of air he claimed her hard. He tugged her onto his knee and gripped the back of her had tightly as he found comfort for deeper penetration of his tongue inside her mouth – and she took him willingly. Princess rose to her knees as she straddled his thighs to press her chest against his, to feel the scrape of his chest against her bosom. She separated from their kiss only to gasp air and to breathe her appreciation inside two words, and then dove straight back inside him.

Mark didn't argue nor push her away as she rose and fell inside her kiss. Her movement was as though they made love as with each rise of her knees she gasped into his mouth and each fall made another claim of his lips. The press of her on his thighs was just short of where he felt his ache and with a single shift of his hips she lightly fell against him. He let out a low moan that was inhaled inside her stunned gasp. She rose a last time and whimpered his name in complete puzzlement as she looked down along his chest toward his legs.

"My God," she breathed as her eyes suddenly rose to his and stared at him with a sense of wonder and possible apprehension. "Mark, I…"

Mark wasn't necessarily far from the point of no return, but he found it incredibly difficult to simply stop their encounter all of a sudden. It took every ounce of his control not to simply flip her onto his mattress and finish what they'd started. He didn't bother to look down at what startled her – he was all too well aware of what it was. He didn't relinquish his hold on her, but he focused her eyes on her kiss-swollen lips.

"Cassie, I'm sorry," he whined.

Her head tilted to one side as she focused her eyes on his gaze upon her mouth. Slowly she bit down on her bottom lip as she lowered herself down against him again. This time she remained seated on him, thrilled by the constant press of his arousal against her. "Don't be sorry,' she breathed. "I … I like it."

He heavily ran his hands up and down her back and shuddered as she moved just slightly against him. "Princess. We have to stop."

"Why?" She panted into his ear as she began to rock slowly against him. "Let's experiment, Mark. Let's see what it feels like." She pushed him slowly backward onto the bed. "Let's find out what all of the fuss is about."

Mark moaned as he lay back and watched her lift her shirt up over her head. All at once, with the sight of her swollen and budding young breasts, he felt the absolute last thread of self control snap in a blinding stab of pain that shot from shoulders to feet. His hand snapped to her back to pull her chest against his. "Mine," he growled possessively as he flipped them both over so that he hovered above her. "All mine."

She purred underneath him and felt a flush creep over her bare shoulders as he buried his nose between her breasts and snarled. "Wow, Mark," she whimpered as his hips stroked against hers. "Please don't stop."

Anderson's words and warning swirled in his mind as she willingly played beneath him. How could he have been so mistaken that a Rigan woman would be an unwilling partner? Princess was more than willing and more than open to his advance. Her thighs widened for him and stroked against his hips. She moved underneath him and begged him to keep going. She breathed his name in urging and want.

He pressed his fists into the mattress either side of her chest and arched his back to raise his head to the ceiling to let out a long moan as he moved against her. He was beyond using her name to show his appreciation of the encounter, he was more of the mind to simply strip her completely naked and dive headlong inside her.

Princess was astounded by how she was reacting to him. She had no comprehension that her body was able to so easily respond to him like this. Every part of her body pin pricked with hypersensitivity and managed to decipher even the slightest touch as something so much more. It was as though a switch inside her had flicked and all of a sudden she was sliding into a woman's body that was begging to be treated to everything this man had to offer her. She touched at his chest if just to feel him and let out a sudden gasp at the rounded smoothness of muscles long hidden under loose shirts and jackets. His chest was rock-hard yet soft at the same time. She succumbed to a sudden, desperate need to see him and thread her hands up under his shirt to lift it enough to bear witness to his hidden beauty.

He shuddered at the touch of her nails against his bare skin and found himself glaring down at her with a predatory, lustful stare of blue. He had officially crossed into the path of no return and watched her from above as she stared back at him with heavy lids and open mouth.

"Princess," he breathed no louder than a harsh whisper. "Do you want this; want me?"

She nodded with a frown of absolute desperation. "Yes Mark. Show me how it feels. Teach me." She arched against him and raised her hips to his. "Teach me how to love a man." She took a breath to find her voice to add on which specific man she wanted to love, but was harshly interrupted as he pulled roughly off her.

"No," he growled as he slid off her into a stand on the floor. "No."

Her eyes were wide and disappointed as she raised herself to her elbows to look at him. "Mark. What's wrong?"

He paced and clutched a handful of hair as he tried desperately to calm himself. "No, Princess. I'm not doing this."

"Doing what," she pleaded. "Don't you want me, Mark?"

He pointed at his crotch and painfully swollen member with both hands. "I think this pretty much speaks for itself, Princess."

She drew herself to a seat and shakily patted the bed in search of her shirt. Her voice was strained. "Then why did you stop?"

His pacing stopped and he looked at her as though she'd asked the most heinous of questions. "Why?" He took a stride toward her and moved to stroke her face. He paused just shy of her skin and curled his fingers into a fist as if to maintain control. His eyes steeled and searched hers. "I will not be a training ground for another man."

Her shock at the accusation flew into her with a gulp. "No, but Mark…"

"No," he growled with a shake of his head. "If you want me, then I am all yours. I will give you everything I have." He took a breath and closed his eyes as his head slanted into an insulted tilt. "But I won't be used as a training ground for you to be with someone else." He opened his eyes only slightly to look at her. "I want you, Princess. I need you – God I _ache_ for you – But you have a boyfriend."

She shook her head. "No, Mark. He's not…" she stopped when he raised his hand to ask for silence.

"I can't do it." He said nothing further as he stormed through his bedroom door and into the hallway toward the bathrooms.

She heard the swear that left his lips as the bathroom door slammed behind him and swallowed hard as she held her shirt to her chest and pressed her fingers to her lips as if to reclaim the touch of his mouth against hers. It wasn't until Jason popped his head around the doorframe in search of Mark that she finally found the ability to move. She completely ignored the fact she was holding a shirt against herself rather than wearing it and shot by Jason with enough force to tumble him against the wall.

Jason watched her disappear down the hall and shot his glance into the room half expecting Mark to be in there in much the same state of undress. He saw the room empty, but heard a loud grunt of a cuss word uncharacteristically firing from the bathroom in his Commander's voice and coughed in confusion.

"What the hell did I just miss?"


	12. Chapter 12

The team had already gathered in the training room and Anderson already addressed them when Mark finally made his appearance. As requested, and only just remembered, Mark wore the outfit Princess had delivered. It was slightly uncomfortable, as new denim usually was, but not exactly as unsightly as Princess' uniform. The shirt was mildly larger than his frame, but he assumed that within a handful of washes it would shrink to roughly the same tightness as the future Swan's shirt.

Anderson checked his watch impatiently when Mark stormed in. "You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago, Mark. Why are you late?"

His eyes and posture were stormy as he crossed his arms against his chest and lowered his head to speak to Anderson through his brows. "I was taking your advice, Sir."

Anderson blinked in surprise at the admission, and the fact that if it had been at all true, then his Commander should have been in a more pliable mood. "Well obviously you're doing something wrong, Mark, if you come in here with that disposition."

Mark gave a shrug. "Then perhaps a training session on the right method is in order."

Anderson's eyes flared, but he chose not to respond with the comment that formed in his mind. Instead he cleared his throat. "I'm sure you can work it out on your own." He shifted his gaze to the other occupants in the room and settled his look on Princess, who appeared to be shying beside Tiny out of possible sight of Mark. He dared not question what may have transpired between the two to have them basically hiding from each other. "I'm sure that you're all wondering about your new clothing and the reason I have called you in this evening."

Jason angled himself toward Mark and, although feigning attention to the head of the project, wasn't listening to a word he was saying. "Everything okay, Mark?"

Mark's response was dark. "I'm fine."

A snort of annoyance drew his lip up into an involuntary snarl. "Yeah, because you're always this full of sunshine."

"I'm just not having a good day, okay."

Jason's eyes flicked toward Princess, as Anderson stepped toward her to discuss something to do with the numbers and fabric of the outfit. "Something happen with you and Cass?"

Mark's head lowered and his lips pursed as his eyes grazed over her shirt. "You could say that."

Jason thumbed at his nose as if to hide a smirk of amusement. "First time jitters?" He felt Mark's glare and shifted his eyes across to him as slyly as he could. "Hey, sometimes it happens, man. Next time maybe you'll be able to hang on until she…"

"Oh for the love of God," he growled loud enough for the entire party to hear. "I'm not talking about this with you."

Anderson saved any further comment. "Is there something the two of you would like to share with the class?" He growled impatiently. At two annoyed glares he continued. "Have either of you heard a word I've said?"

Jason smirked. "You mean within the last five minutes?"

Anderson's eyes narrowed. "Okay. If you want to act like children, then I'll treat you like children. Jason, stand on the other side of the group. Mark, stay right where you are." He looked at Keyop. "Stand with Mark, will you. Make sure he listens."

The youngster, in a blue and white pair of striped jeans and a yellow shirt with the number four on it, nodded excitedly and stepped up beside Mark. He looked up with a wide smile. "Hi Mark."

Mark looked down at him and found himself able to swallow his own frustration. He smiled. "Hey Key. You look good in that."

He put his thumb into his shirt to pull it out proudly. "I'm gunna be a swallow."

Mark tilted his head and passed a gaze toward Anderson. "Swallow?"

Anderson gave a short nod and thrust a hand into his coat pocket. "I feel it's appropriate."

"Yeah," Jason grunted with a smirk. "Little pains in the ass."

Princess' voice snapped in. "Jason! That's not nice."

Anderson growled again. "All of you listen. The next person to speak is grounded for a week, do you hear me?" He waited until all eyes were obediently upon him and let out a breath. "Okay. These uniforms are now officially your permanent wear. We have reason to believe that within the next year Spectra will begin their offensive and I need you in a permanent state of readiness to go in to battle."

Mark raised his hand in a request to speak, but was dismissed by a wave of Anderson's hand.

"Team, your new clothing has been designed to transform into your battle uniform."

Keyop looked down at his shirt, smoothed at it and then looked back up. "How?"

"The specifics aren't important right now, Keyop, but feel free to sit with your technicians after our meeting and they can outline the particulars for you." He pointed at his wrist. "Your watches are essential to the transformation process. More than simply a communications piece, these will begin, hold, and end the transmutation on your command." He rounded his arm around his head in dramatic fashion. "You need to circle your arm and command "transmute" to begin the sequence. You hold until the transformation is complete."

Mark looked down at his watch and raised a brow. "Is this tested?"

Anderson nodded. "It has been through rigorous testing over the past several months." He nodded as his eyes met with the watch. "Give it a try, Commander."

Mark looked up, passed a glance at Jason, and then shrugged. "Okay." He knew the other guys were watching and kept his eyes on Anderson as he slowly moved through the process just showed to them. His fist clenched as he ordered "Transmute!"

Within a second he was encased inside a light field. He felt an electrical force surge through his body and heard a distant, piercing, cry of an Eagle flash by him. When he felt a restrictive covering begin to form over his chest and legs, Mark let out a yelp and dropped his hand from his face. The light immediately vanished and four startled sets of eyes stared up at him.

Jason was the only one to voice his thoughts. "What the fuck was that?"

Anderson ignored the comment and narrowed his gaze at Mark. "Try it again, Commander. This time hold in place until the sequence ends."

Mark shook his head with a frown. "No, Sir. That is terrifying."

"Try it again."

Mark gave him a look of frustration, but nodded his head to comply. "Transmute," he called again, this time his voice a harsher order than previous. He grit his teeth hard to hold position as the energies and apparitions swam in the air around him. It felt like an hour, but must've only been a few seconds, when the din died and he could breathe again. He blinked through blue vision and tugged at his collar as he let his eyes pass by Anderson to look at his image in a wall mirror.

"Damn," Jason breathed in awe. "Now _that_ was cool."

Keyop swept around Mark and flicked at the long caped wings that fell over his shoulders and down his back. "Eagle," he breathed. "Nice."

Mark had to admit that he looked pretty impressive in this outfit. It was as though his stature and physique had suddenly grown ten-fold, and he stood proud before his team. "Go, team," he breathed finally as he pulled at the center of his wings to close them against his chest.

Each member excitedly commanded his and her own changes. Within a heartbeat, the room was aglow with four sets of transformations. Mark breathed out appreciatively as each of his teammates flickered into view.

Jason, in the brown wings of a Condor, strode quickly to the mirror to assess every inch of his costume. "Now this is cool." He looked past his hip and lifted his wing as if to check out his ass. He spotted a row of feathers and straightened as he pulled one free of his wings. "Now what is this, then?"

"That," Anderson boomed proudly, "is the reason you've been learning how to throw darts, Jason. Each of you has a set in your cape. They're tipped with a potent sleep agent to immediately drop your target to allow them to be brought in for questioning. A hit to the throat is considered the most effective strike."

Jason smirked and flicked a feather up. His eyes watched it fall as it dropped back into his fingers. "Hey, Mark. Didn't you tell me that you were having trouble sleeping?"

"Yeah, about 12 months ago."

Jason waggled a brow. "Still having problems?"

"Not enough to let you throw one of those at me."

Jason gave a laugh. "When you least expect it, Skipper."

A flash of pink shot between Mark and Jason. They both stumbled and looked toward the mirror, where Princess was admiring herself.

"Oh how pretty," she breathed as she smoothed over her skirt, tried a pose, and then spun for a full look at herself. "Pink, my favourite colour."

Jason's brows shot firmly skyward. "I'm thinking white might just be my new favourite," he declared as his head tilted down to one side in time with both Mark and Tiny as if to double check that it was little white panties they were seeing.

Mark's head was still tilted and his body angled in a light stoop when he slid his eyes to Anderson. "You can't be serious, Sir."

Princess spun quickly at his question and immediately reddened when she noticed the older boys of the team in position to look up her skirt. She brought her legs together, bent her knees and bit on her lip as she attempted to pull down the skirt. "Guys, that's very rude."

Jason and Tiny rose quickly and whistled in mock innocence. Mark, however, remained stooped, with a glare on the project head. "Do you think that outfit is entirely appropriate, Sir?"

"It's no less appropriate than the cheerleading outfit she wears to school, Mark."

He finally rose to a full stand. "Yeah if she was a stripper, maybe, Sir."

She gasped his name in hurt shock, whereas Anderson growled in warning. "You might want to apologise for that, Commander."

Mark raised his shoulders and opened his hands to accent his question. "Why? Because I object to the fact that the designers felt a little tits and ass was in order for the G-Force team?"

"Commander." It was a warning, pure and simple, but Mark ignored it.

"I hardly think it's fair that the guys and I have complete coverage and you put Cassandra into a mini-skirt and thigh-high boots." He flicked his hand toward Tiny and Jason. "Those two certainly took their fill of the sight, don't think for a second that every other man won't do the same."

"As did you," Anderson breathed slowly.

"Then my point is proven," he rebutted shortly. "Cassandra will end up nothing but a damn sex object if you leave her in that outfit." He swept his hand up and down in presentation of the outfit. "It's going to be pretty hard for a man to take her seriously as a fighter when all they see is someone who's legs they want to get between."

No sooner had the words left his mouth; Mark knew he'd said the wrong thing. There seemed to be a large vacuum as Princess gulped an immediate sob. Her hands flew to her face and without a second thought she bolted from the room. He spun to apologise, but found his voice unwilling to follow his mind. He couldn't even find the motivation to slap his hand to his head and call himself an asshole.

Jason, however, didn't find it incredibly difficult. "What the fuck, Mark?" He stalked toward him and cracked his neck to one side in warning. "You have to be, beyond doubt, the biggest asshole on the planet, you know that?"

Anderson saved a potential fight with stern, but soft calls of both boys' names. "Jason, Mark. Enough." He seemed remarkably calm as he pointed toward the door. "Gentlemen, you are dismissed for the evening." As each man strode toward the door he called for the Eagle. "Commander. A word if you will."

Mark froze on the spot and closed his eyes as he turned to return to Anderson. He could hear Jason snort in approval of a verbal lashing and Tiny simply question what happened. "Yes, Sir?" He breathed as he heard the door close behind him to leave them alone.

Anderson gave a short flick of the head to ensure the door was closed. Once satisfied the conversation would not be overheard, he removed his glasses from his face and wiped hard at them. To anyone watching, it was obvious it was his attempt to seek some form of control against what his mind wanted to do.

"Commander,' he began slowly, quietly. "You will apologise to Princess for that remark and for the humiliation in front of …"

"I will, Sir," he stammered quickly.

Anderson's eyes flared wide at the interruption, and still, he wiped at his glasses. "You will more than apologise, Mark. You will get down on your knees and beg her forgiveness." His eyes flicked up to him. "Am I clear?"

Mark swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes Sir. I will. I'm sorry." He shuffled in between feet and looked at the door. "Will that be all, Sir?"

Anderson actually huffed a laugh as he raised his glasses to the light as if to check for dust. "Oh absolutely not, Commander. Not by a long shot."

Mark closed his eyes. "What else, Sir?"

Anderson pressed the glasses back up his nose. "Did something happen between you and Princess that I need to be made aware of?"

Mark took a deep breath to think of how to answer the question. His hands curled into fists, which creaked the new leather gloves enough to make him wince. "No, Sir."

"I find that hard to believe when you act like a man scorned and she more timid than usual."

Mark swallowed hard. "We may have had a little disagreement, Sir, but it isn't anything she and I cannot work out."

Anderson rolled his head slightly on his shoulders. "Given our conversation earlier, Commander, I have to wonder if there is more to this disagreement that you appear willing to share."

Mark read the implication loud and clear and found himself taking a step backward. "Oh no, Sir. Don't start to assume things like that."

Anderson maintained his assumption. "Did she refuse you, Mark?"

The question was delivered so darkly that it made him shudder. He breathed out a long breath and shook his head. "No Sir, actually it was the opposite."

The admission hit into Anderson's chest hard. His eyes flashed open in total surprise. "She came to you?"

Mark nodded. "I'll admit to you that I was more than willing to participate, but when I found out she had a boyfriend… I just couldn't do it."

Anderson's head rose quickly. He ignored Mark's admission and focused on the other piece of information. "Boyfriend?"

Mark's brow flicked. "I assumed you were already aware of that, considering you are allowing her off base to go on a date."

"She told me she was going to the mall with some friends from school."

"That's not what she told me."

Anderson rubbed at his chin and spared a glance at the Eagle who, although in full battle glory, looked slouched and lost. He knew the young man was travelling though the pits of hormonal hell and torture, which was likely firing his emotions, but there was something else inside the young man that brought him to this place. That something else was possibly not immediately obvious to the young Commander, but Anderson read it crystal clear – He actually had deep feelings for Princess. How else would he have found his control to say no, and why would he be so deeply affected by it to react so harshly against her?

He briefly wondered whether to approach the subject, or to simply let it lie and let the two of them work it out in their own time. As he analysed the current quandary and Mark's obvious lack of control over what he didn't really understand, he felt it better to bring it in the open.

"Mark, a question."

Mark peered through his visor and blinked singly as though trying to clear his vision. "You can ask if you tell me how to transmute out of this uniform."

"Same way you put it on, now Mark. Tell me about Princess."

Mark raised a finger to ask for a minute and concentrated as he reversed the original transmutation. He checked himself over once the lights had ceased, just to make sure he was back in jeans and a T-shitt. "What, exactly, do you want to know, Sir?"

"How do you really feel about her?"

Mark paused mid-smoothing of his shirt and looked at Anderson with wide eyes. "I thought we'd already discussed that."

Anderson shook his head. "No. There's more, Mark, and I'll come straight to the point. Do you love her?"

The look that crossed Mark's face was a mix between incredulity and confusion. "Of course I do. Why would you question that?"

"No," he muttered with a shrug of his head. "What I mean is are you _in love_ with her?"

Mark seemed perfectly stunned by the question, but he let it swirl in his mind for a few moments before he answered. "I can't say I've really given it much thought, Sir. I know that without her at my side I'm almost lost, and that I would die for her without a second thought. But is that what being _in love_ is?" He shrugged. "I'm only 17, Sir. I don't think I'm old enough to even know how to feel that deeply."

Anderson chose to agree with Mark - more to let him work it out on his own than anything else. "I suppose if and when do fall in love you'll know."

Mark smiled. "Yes, I hope so." He stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked his foot along the floor. "So is that all?"

Anderson nodded and took a step ahead of him to lead them to the door. "I still expect you to apologise to Princess, Mark. What you said was out of line." He pressed his hand into the door to cease Mark in opening it. "I also want to remind you to take more care with your emotions. How you feel outside the team should remain there. I do not need, nor want, to have outside aggression interrupting any training or instructional sessions again. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly, Sir."

Anderson opened the door and swept his arm through the air in invitation for Mark to leave first. "Now. Go and kiss and make up, or whatever you kids do to settle your disagreements."


	13. Chapter 13

Her date wasn't going well. It wasn't so much that her partner for the evening, Cameron, wasn't cute, or interesting, because he was. It was more that her mind was still swimming with annoyance over Mark. Well, annoyance as well as a decent dose of absolute intrigue over their encounter in his bedroom, and then his apparent jealousy over her having a date.

Jealousy had never been an emotion she'd seen in him in all their years together. She's seen every other possible emotion flow through him at one point or another, some scary, some wonderful. Until today, however, she never considered him capable of outright and aggressive jealousy – especially where she was concerned.

Like, why would he be jealous? The only plausible explanation that existed for him being envious over another guy would be if he were truly interested in her.

"_Mine."_ he had declared when he pressed them into his mattress and buried his nose into her breasts. _"All mine"_

Remembering the claim made her shudder. Maybe that actually meant something - something more than simply the chance for a sordid encounter.

She let out a light moan at the smallest tingle of recollection at the press of him against her. That feeling would not soon be forgotten. Not just for the first time of experimentation, but for the simple fact that it was with him – Mark. If she had any real choice over who should be with her when she experienced any _firsts_ she'd choose him. She went to him with the excuse of needing to be taught not because she didn't know how to kiss a boy, but simply because she wanted her first _real_ kiss to be with him. How incredible that he had let her take it as far as they got, that she got to experience her first absolute arousal and pleasure … with him.

She'd had a crush on him since approximately thirty seconds after she looked into his blue eyes for the very first time. It was so easy for her to reach out to him, to snuggle herself against him, and to depend on him when she needed comfort. He was always there and always willing to be her shoulder. He protected her. He cared for her. He made sure that she felt special and strong.

That was pretty much the whole reason she got so upset by his remarks in the training room. It wasn't that he said what he did – it was perfectly reasonable and true – just that the comment had come from him. Had Jason said the same thing, she'd have just flicked her hip and attempted to prove him wrong in his assessment. For it to have come from Mark – that hurt.

Her mind travelled back to his room. To him pressing against her. To the feeling of complete and utter perfection. To him declaring her _his_.

"Mine," she breathed out softly as her fingertips touched at her lips.

Cameron slid a somewhat confused look toward her. "Pardon me, Cassandra?"

Her eyes flashed open in shock. Inside her own thoughts she'd forgotten about the fact she sat on the passenger side of Cameron's car. "Oh, I'm sorry, Cam. I was thinking over the assignment that Mr. Keen gave us in English today."

Cameron gave a shrug and turned the wheel to turn off the road. He leaned forward to turn off the ignition and then leaned his forearms on the steering wheel in a half-turn toward her. "Well, we're here."

She briefly glanced up at the gates to the compound cleverly disguised as a large home. "We are." She bit on her lip somewhat unsure of how things were supposed to go from here. "So. Um. Thank you for a fun night."

His brow flicked as she reached for the doorhandle. "Don't I get a kiss goodnight?"

She blinked wide at her hand on the handle and slowly shifted her head to look innocently up at him. "Pardon me?"

He leaned back in his chair and smirked at her. "Oh come on. I take you on an awesome night and you want to deny me a simple kiss?"

Her fingers gripped unsurely at the handle as her ear tipped to her shoulder. She couldn't help but feel somewhat meek at the request, and the fact she felt it was a compulsory thing to do. "Um, okay?"

He gave her a heavy lidded stare as his hand shifted to run heavily against her cheek into her hair. "Don't sound so scared, Cass." He moved his face closer to hers. "I don't bite."

She felt a sudden jolt at the rough sensation of a bandaged finger scraping under her ear and let out a small whimper. She did not feel comfortable about this and didn't want it. Her breath shook out of her as he closed in on her. "Cam…"

Her words cut off as his lips mashed against hers. Her eyes flashed open and her breathing practically ceased in horror as his tongue found his way past her lips. Her chest was jerked toward his and his head dropped into a horizontal tilt as he wetly increased his claim on her mouth.

This didn't feel like a kiss – not like the one she'd shared with Mark earlier – this was more of a face-dive into watery jello. His lips were not on hers, they completely encased them. It was as though he engulfed her face from nose to chin.

She whimpered in disgust and shifted to attempt to put her hands on his chest to push him away from her. He misread it as a signal to continue and snarled against her as his hands found their way up her shirt.

Still her eyes were wide as he seemed to swallow her whole. His hands scraped up her shirt, callouses and bandaids marked red her white skin – so different to Mark's soft touch.

And this was different to Mark. More than just the general feeling of him, the absence of taste made this so much more unappealing. When Mark explored her mouth, he had flavour. It may have been a combination of Mint gum and Doritos, but it was flavour none the less. It was a taste that drove her to want more, to see how the rest of him might taste against her tongue. Cameron's mouth was like drinking water – just as wet and just as bland.

She felt a sudden sensation of drowning and gasped for breath as she finally found escape by shoving against his chest. He panted as she wiped the mess of her mouth with the back of her hand. "Cameron, stop."

"What's wrong?" he panted as he moved in for another kiss.

She held her hands against his chest and turned her head to the side. "I just can't do this."

His brow flicked in annoyance, but he sat back. "Why not?"

She pressed her back into the car door as if to move as far from his as she could. "I just…" she sighed and shrugged as if embarrassed. "I just don't think I feel that way about you."

His head tilted downward and he gave her a condescending look. "What do feelings have to do with it?"

She blinked quickly and shot her gaze to him. "Feelings are everything, Cameron." She angled her head to the side. "Are you saying that you really don't like me?"

He ran his hand through his hair and shrugged. "You're okay," he muttered. "But I'm not going to run out and declare love or anything like that."

Her lips pursed. "Then why…?"

"You're a cheerleader. I'm a footballer. Makes sense."

Her lips pursed and she frowned. "Oh." She was actually somewhat disappointed by the admission. "Then we can just say goodnight?"

His face turned dark. "No."

She gasped. "What?"

His hand found hers and he held it tightly. "I'm not losing the bet."

Her green eyes blinked several times as she processed the comment. Her head angled awkwardly to one side. "What bet?"

He grinned. "You're the only virgin left on the cheersquad…"

She immediately shuffled back and stumbled out of the car as her hand found the door latch. She rolled onto her feet and slammed the door shut. "That's disgusting." She walked backward toward the front gate. "You're a pig." She spun as though in a tantrum and found her face buried in the chest of a letterman sweater. She backed off and looked up – straight into the face of G-Force's current schoolyard nemesis.

"Moose?"

He grinned widely. "Well. If it isn't little Cassandra Anderson."

~~O-O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O-O~~

Mark scratched his head and yawned as he attempted to look as interested as possible as the Security technician talked him through the latest compound surveillance systems. He was tired, absolutely exhausted, but pushed himself through the demonstration.

Anderson had insisted that he partake in the demonstration, he assumed, as penance for upsetting Princess. There seemed no other viable reason for him to have to endure what was already three hours of mindless drivel about the digital imagery, pixels, zoom … blah blah. His inattentiveness was invisible for the most part, with only one or two gentle reminders from the red-haired woman needed. It wasn't until he saw the sleek blue Honda Civic pull up at the front gate, that he actually found his interest.

He leaned forward and pointed at a pane on a four-image monitor. "Can you zoom in on that?"

The woman rolled her eyes up at him. "Yes, Commander. I said earlier that you can send specific camera feeds to the main monitor." She pressed her finger into the touch-screen monitor and swept her finger to flick it to the larger screen. "From here you can easily …" She smiled and gave a short sound that could have translated to _busted_. "Oh dear. Cassandra is _parking_?"

Mark felt a jealous tick in his left eye and folded his arms across his chest. "Leave it on," he ordered when she tried to minimize the image.

"Oh, Commander. This is private."

His eyes didn't leave the monitor. "I don't have a good feeling about this," he warned. "Leave it on."

The woman rolled her eyes and shook her head in disgust at him. "Be jealous on your own time and with your own methods, Mark. I am not going to let you spy on her using my equipment."

His voice took on a low growl when he saw Princess and her little boyfriend in a passionate position in the front seat of the vehicle. "I order you to leave it on."

"Your orders don't work on me," she grunted. "Go and climb a tree or something if you're that interested in spying, Mark."

His eyes flared when he saw her tumble from the car and stagger to her feet. "He's dead," he growled before he spun and fled the room.

The technician looked up in surprise at the monitor and gave a gasp at the young woman alone in the presence of what looked to be five large boys. She fumbled with the phone and dialled the number to Anderson's office. "Doctor, we have a problem."

~~O-O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O-O~~

Mark ran through the massive hallway toward the front door. The run took him past the main recreation room, where he could hear Tiny and Jason in the midst of a discussion on engines and the viability of putting a jet engine under the hood of a car. He paused in the doorway only long enough to fire off a single sentence that he hoped would immediately move them both.

"Moose has Princess cornered out front."

~~O-O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O-O~~

Princess swallowed hard as she took a step backward from Moose. She raised her hands and shook her head. "I don't want any trouble. Just let me go back inside."

He grinned a yellow-toothed smile at her. "Why so fast, Cassie? Don't you want to hang out with us for a while?"

She backed into Cameron and gasped as she skittered to the side to evade both men. "You know. I'm really tired and should get inside. I just know my father is waiting for me to come home." She tapped at her watch. "Curfew. You know how it is."

He laughed as he tweezed one of her curls through his fingers. "Oh Cassandra. We're here to make sure Cameron wins his bet."

Her eyes widened horrifically. She shook her head. "Oh no. He's going to lose that bet."

Mark's voice sailed in from behind the group. "And that's something we're going to guarantee."

Moose rolled his eyes and let out a huff before he turned to look at the trio behind him. "Oh look, it's the geek squad."

Princess quickly weaved through the footballers and threw herself against Mark. She panted in relief as she nestled herself into his side and stared back timidly at Moose. Mark rubbed at her back and gave her a soft look. "Are you okay, Sweetheart?"

"Sweetheart?" Moose bellowed incredulously before he erupted into laughter. "Oh don't tell me. You and Mark, Cassandra?" He turned back to his friends, but before he could attempt a witty comment, Mark's voice growled back in.

"If you have any brains at all in that thick head of yours, you'll leave."

Moose feigned complete and utter shock. He turned and let out a soundless cough as he slowly raised his hands to his mouth to cover it. "And if I don't?"

Mark stepped away from Princess and took a few bold steps toward the only man on Earth he really wished heinous things on. "If you don't then I will personally, and with great pleasure, kick your ass."

Behind moose, the other boys lined up and puffed out their chests in warning. Moose flicked a single brow. "Oh. I am so scared."

Jason sorted. "Oh you should be."

Moose thumbed behind him. "You're outnumbered."

"No," Mark breathed with a grin. "You are."

Tiny practically strutted to position beside his Commander. He punched at his hand and had a sway to his walk, much like a gorilla's gait when going into battle. "I can take three of you with my hands tied behind my back, Moose. You threaten Cassie, man, you threaten me." He punched at his chest. "And I'm the one you wanna fear most."

Princess, for her part, stood quietly back of the group. Her stance was far more juvenile than usual and she seemed to innocently size up the entire conflict as if ready to leap into it herself. She twisted the band of her communicator around her wrist and hung one shoulder low. "Mark, Jase, Tiny, just ignore them. They aren't worth it."

Mark shook his head. "No, but you are, Princess."

Moose had to laugh again. "Princess? Sweetheart? Oh man, Anderson, you really do have a thing for her, don't you?"

Mark took another step forward. "You better believe it, Moose. Cassie's my girl."

Moose let his eyes narrow and his head roll to one side to look arrogantly down his nose at Mark. "Then bring it, geek." He crouched slightly and flicked his fingers in an invite to fight. "I've been waiting to kick your scrawny ass for years."

Mark confidently stepped forward, with Jason and Tiny willingly flanking him either side. "Ditto."

What happened next happened so quick that it should have been impossible to see it. Jason and Tiny certainly didn't register it until they saw Mark stagger backward with his hand clutching at his side. Jason registered Mark's terrified look and flicked his eyes to Moose in time to see him raise a bloody blade to the light.

Princess, however, saw the movement in painfully slow motion. Before Mark had a chance to brace himself for the first punch, Moose flicked open the switchblade and struck upward. She watched each droplet of blood splay off the blade and onto the grass below.

She let out a scream and was at Mark's side as he staggered and stumbled onto his ass. "Mark!" She feared the worst and pulled up his shirt to survey the damage. Her vision was half clouded by frightened tears and she switched her look between his stunned eyes and the wound under his ribs. Her mind completely ignored the fight that quickly ensued to focus on Mark. "I'll call for help," she promised worriedly. "You're not allowed to die on me."

He shook his head. "I'm okay. Get out of here, Princess." He ran his fingers down her face. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"No Mark,' she whispered more for hr own benefit that his as she leaned down and gave him a solitary, and lingering, kiss on the mouth. "He can't hurt me. The only person who can is you. If I won't let you then I won't let him" She drew herself to a stand and stood in a hunch as she took a deep, deep, deep breath. She turned and dramatically rounded her arm, ending the arc with a snap of her elbow to bring the communicator in front of her face. "Transmute!"

Any ensuing scuffles and fight immediately ceased at her demand. As the bullies and her teammates turned in confusion, the light around her vanished to leave her standing dangerously stooped forward, her arms straight behind her with fingers splayed and legs bent … in the pretty pink dress and wings of the Swan. She slowly rose out of her crouch and stepped toward Moose.

"You are going to pay for hurting him," she warned darkly. "And for everything you've ever done to all of us."

Jason and Tiny actually backed off. Mark rose to his feet and leaned against Tiny's shoulder. "Do we help her…?"

Jason smirked and gave a proud nod. "Nah. Let's watch what she does, man."

Moose deliberately, and obviously, eyed Princess up and down. He dragged his tongue along his bottom lip. "Oh how cute, Cassie. You went and got all dressed up for me."

She blinked and sized up the exact locations of the other boys, but said nothing.

"What an inventive costume, Cass. What are you supposed to be? A goose?"

Her shoulders heaved in a slow movement. "A Swan, actually."

"Oh how sweet." Moose circled her and flicked at the bottom of her skirt. "Now, gimme a look at that ass," he muttered crudely into her ear.

She angled her head to the side and exhaled a long breath as she seemed to relax and step back. "My ass, Moose?" She turned side on to him and flicked up her skirt a little as she jutted out her behind. "You want to see what's up my skirt?"

"Oh you bet."

"Okay," she sang once she knew his attention was inappropriately upon the lower half of her body. With a half-spin she raised her leg and swept her foot across his face. He stumbled to the side and she leapt and flipped off her hands to hook her legs around the neck of one of his friends. She fell on top of him as he dropped backward and rose by straightening her legs to put her in a full forward bend. The move gave moose and his friends a full display of her panties, and her enough distraction time to leap again to kick out the legs of another boy.

Mark, Jason, and Tiny watched her in complete and utter awe.

Jason was the first to breathe anything. "Wow. She's …"

"Beautiful," Mark finished. "Absolutely beautiful."

All three boys let out moans akin to pleasure as she took down another of the bullies. Tiny angled his head to gaze upon her dancing amongst the bullies in complete admiration. "Commander, if I were you I would not be worried about how short her skirt is and who respects or doesn't respect her on the field of battle."

"I agree with you, Tiny," Jason said along a whistle. "Hell, it gives her an advantage we don't have."

Mark couldn't respond. He watched in complete wonder every movement she made. _"Mine,"_ the voice in his head demanded as she gave a final spin and landed gracefully beside one of Moose's prostrate friends. _"All mine."_

Princess took a short look around and crouched beside Moose. She stroked at the edge of her wing and raised her eyes to Mark then flicked her look back to her enemy. "Did you get a good enough look, Moose?" She mildly registered Anderson's stunned cry from the gate, and of the sudden arrival of the base security guards. She walked through the swarm of uniformed individuals and made a line straight for Mark.

"Don't ever," she warned low. "_Ever_ put a question on how I will perform out in battle, Commander. Short skirt or full coverage, it doesn't…"

He cut her off with a sudden and firm pull against her wing to draw her to him. "I was so wrong, Princess. If I get down on my knees and beg, will you forgive me?"

She hooked her hand behind his head and pulled him into an open-mouthed, tongue warring, wet kiss. It was short, it was loud, and it brought groans of disgust from Jason and Tiny. She giggled as she pulled herself off him and shyly dropped her head. "Mark?"

He still clutched his side and was still obviously in pain, but he smiled. "Yeah?"

She raised her gaze to his. "Will you be my boyfriend?"


	14. Chapter 14

It's been a while since an update here -- and I apologise. Real Life came running headlong at me and I had to cease the writings for a bit... I've actually had this written for a while. Silly me didn't post it.

Big thanks to GoGirl for looking over this chapter for me. I forgot how wonderful it was to work alongside a beta reader and hope beyond hope that I can convince her to continue to help me out with this and other pieces -- she's a smart girl!!

~~O-O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O-O~~

Anderson and the compound security force swooped down on the four teens with all the thunder and light of Thor descending from the Heavens. As his staff worked to secure the scene, Anderson found himself nearly senseless from rage. He heard nothing, saw nothing, as he pulled Mark out of Princess' hold and tossed him into the chest of one of the base medical personnel officers. "Mark," he growled in about as much of a supportive tone as was possible given his ire. "Are you okay, son?"

He didn't hear the lad repeat that he was okay. All he saw was blood – and plenty of it. "Take him to medical, immediately, for treatment. We don't know if that strike hit anything important." He stammered as he felt the feather-light touch of Princess' hand on his elbow and roughly jerked away from her. "I want immediate notification of the severity of this injury and what treatment plan you have in mind."

Princess' voice softly wafted inside the swirling and muted sounds around him, but he took no notice of it. He was concerned for the young man bleeding in front of him, and way too angry with her to even look in her direction.

"God tell me why I thought a girl would be a good addition to the team," he snarled finally under his breath as he stalked behind the med techs toward the compound. "They're nothing but trouble.."

Princess' hands flew to cover her mouth with Anderson's comment. Her world was tinted orange through her visor, and now swirled inside a wash of tears to distort and elongate his departing figure. "Sir, please," she begged with a voice full of apologetic agony. "I…"

Anderson spun on his heel and raised a finger. "Don't talk to me. Don't utter a word, don't make a sound. I can't deal with you right now." His vision finally cleared and he took his her complete despondence. He flicked a handkerchief from his pocket and tossed it at her. "I'm not falling for that act again, Cassandra. You can cry all you want right now – I'm not buying it." He flicked a finger at the mass of prostrate teens on the ground. "And someone do something about this. Find a way to erase their memories or something. This mess is seriously going to jeopardize this entire project."

She let out a choked sob and threw herself to him, ready to beg his forgiveness. "Please, Sir …"

He sidestepped as she tried to clutch at his waist to bury her face into him. "Just get out of my sight." He looked toward Jason and Tiny, who both half-appeared to be whistling their own innocence. "All of you just … get out of my sight."

Princess swayed on her feet and openly began to sob into her hands. "I'm sorry."

Jason let out a breath of empathy and found himself leaning forward to pull her into his hold. "Hey Cass. It's okay. The old man's mad now, but he'll get over it."

She clutched at his shirt and buried her head into the valley between his pecs. "No. No," she sobbed with a shake of her head. "He hates me. I really screwed up."

"Nah," Tiny crooned from her left. "He's mad, but he doesn't hate you."

"Yes he does."

Jason had a half wince on his face as he lightly stroked her back with the palm of his hand. "Give him some time to calm down, he'll be okay." He began a slow stalk to the front doors of the compound house. "I've gotten him this fired up more times than I can count. Just give him an hour to swear and yell at a few people and try talking to him again."

"I didn't mean to blow our cover like that, Jason, but Moose hurt Mark and…"

"I know, Cass," he assured softly as he leaned forward to push open the door. "We were all ready to do the same thing, trust me. You just got in first."

Tiny clicked in a loud snap of air through his teeth in agreement. "Got that right, Jase. Hell, I hope Mark's gunna be okay."

Princess inhaled a high and hard gasp. "Mark! Oh my god, I forgot…" She tugged herself out of Jason's hold and stumbled as she took off toward medical. "I have to make sure he's okay."

Jason coughed and slowly tilted his head at the flash of white panties as she took off down the hall. "Tiny, man. How long do you think it'll take for that sight to lose its appeal to me?"

Tiny's head was angled in a similar matter and he wore a goofy grin. "I dunno, Jase, but I hope for both our sakes it never does."

"Yeah," Jason breathed appreciatively. "The day either of us stops looking at that is the day we're no longer men, right?"

"Right."

~~O-O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O-O~~

An-ger

[ang-ger] –noun

1. A strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong; wrath; ire.

2. Obsolete. Grief; trouble.

in·so·lence

[in-suh-luhns]-noun

1. The quality or condition of being insolent.

2. contemptuously rude or impertinent behavior or speech.

_Anger._ No dictionary could quite define the emotion as eloquently as his psyche was currently feeling it. 'A strong feeling of displeasure' was a rather mild description for it. Anderson could quite honestly refine it to a far more specific and vivid definition. Somewhere along the lines of:

A blistering hot internal pressure increase that initiates its control of host beginning from the body's extremities. Total consumption of the host presents first as temporary tunnel vision, at worst blindness, deafness to anything beyond the passion's flow throughout the aural canals and an inability to speak to the individual(s) guilty of insolence (see definition) in fear of tearing them apart physically with words alone.

Oh he was pissed off. Pissed off. Did Webster's have a definition for that well-known phrase?

He was sure that throughout the years of training with his wards that he was explicit in ensuring that they knew discretion was imperative; that they were to ensure that their skills, abilities, and futures were shielded from everyone around them not affiliated with the project.

…Sure of it.

Why then, if he had been so specific in his orders to the team, had Princess used her new battle uniform in public, against known competitors, less than five hours of having received it? Furthermore, why had the child outright lied to him about her plans for the evening, then managed to involve the boys in her scheme, which ultimately resulted in a serious injury?

The question; the anger; the confusion; the betrayal by his little girl; all culminated to draw the entire left side of his face to twitch and flicker in a motion so much more than just a tic.

Princess rounded the corner hard and fast; fast enough that her brand new rubber soles skidded and jumped much like the initialization of the ABS in a car when the brake pedal is shoved to the floor. The jumpy movements of her feet on the polished tile caused her to stumble slightly, but she maintained her balance enough to not fall onto her ass.

She let out a yelp as she collided with the sharp corner wall, and then crashed into Dr. Anderson, who stood at a viewing window to a room where Mark was being treated.

"Sir, I'm sorry."

Anderson shifted his gaze slowly at her, but said nothing as he slid his eyes back to the window.

There was a subtle shift in his jaw as he watched the flurry of activity inside the room. Princess caught on to the movement and took it as him trying to find the words to say. She figured she'd save him the need and just blabber herself. "Sir, please. I didn't mean to go against your orders, but. Well. But, well, Moose started it. He and is friends cornered me and then was going to force me to kiss them…" she paused at the sound of a growl from Anderson and waited for him to say something. He didn't. He didn't even shift his gaze to look at her reflection through the glass.

"Sir," she tried again. "I am so sorry. When he hurt Mark, I just… I was so scared that…" She cleared her throat as she vainly attempted to figure out what she wanted to say. "I had to, you know. I was so mad. So upset and …" She raked her hand over her head, with the intention of clawing at her hair, and let out a grunt when her fingernails met only with the hard lacquered surface of her helmet. "And…"

"When you have finally worked out what excuse you want to use, Cassandra, then attempt to talk to me," Anderson grunted finally, sick of the mumbled, pathetic attempts at apology. "In fact, don't even bother. I'll deal with you when I'm ready."

She hiccupped. "You never call me Cassandra."

He ignored her and flicked open one side of his sport coat to thrust a hand into his pocket. He used the other hand to rap his knuckles on the glass. "Doctor, a word?"

Princess touched her hand to his elbow to attempt to coax some form of gentleness from him. "Sir, please. Can't we just talk about this? Can't you let me explain?"

He brushed her hand from his elbow and strode wordlessly to the door to speak with the doctor overseeing the Commander.

The doctor handed his clipboard to Anderson and let one side of his mouth curl into a smirk. "Mark is going to be okay. The blade used was sharp and the wound only a shallow slash. It barely cut into the abdominal muscle grouping." He folded his arms across his chest. "The implant you put in the boy has put his immune system in high gear. The laceration is healing at five times the rate of an unenhanced individual."

Anderson grunted. "The tone of your voice suggests that it is a bad thing."

The doctor grunted. "It is if the lad needs stitches, it is. You have to make sure that one or more of your team of delinquents has heavy triage training if you want them to remain pretty out there." He caught a glare and rolled his eyes. "Suturing is important if these kids want to retain their dexterity, John. They slice something in their hands or legs that goes unchecked for a few hours and they'll end up useless on their following battles."

Anderson snorted in agreement. "I'll have Jason and Keyop interning with your team starting tomorrow."

Princess timidly piped up. "Can I volunteer, Sir. I have already worked alongside the medical teams and have extensive…"

"Jason," Anderson snapped in interruption. "Will be our field medic with Keyop as his second. They seem to have the most level heads in the face of crisis." He passed a gaze at Princess, whose facial expression wore the lines and tear stains of distress. "I need to know that I can trust the person I charge with assisting my fallen team members. I need to know that my medics will be responsible, reliable and level-headed when someone gets hurt. I need to know they will respond like trained professionals not like a sniveling, overwrought, irresponsible little girl."

That jibe hit, and hit hard. Princess' hands flew to her mouth as she inhaled the longest breath she'd ever taken. She took a couple of steps backward and began to pant as a brand new wave of hot emotion worked its way up her spine and into her throat. "Striking me would have hurt less," she breathed sorely. "If you don't want me on your team anymore, why don't you just say so and send me back to the orphanage where you found me?"

At that, and at the absolute sadness in her voice, Anderson finally turned to her. "Princess…"

"Don't call me that," she snapped. She clawed at her communicator and tore it from her wrist. She let out a yelp as her body thrust up, alight with the detransmutation to civilian clothing. "If you can't trust me, then why am I here? Take this and find yourself a boy for your team." She threw the communicator to the floor at his feet and spun to run down the hallway.

Anderson winced. His anger had taken it too far. "Princess," he called down the hallway after her. "Princess, wait."

Mark staggered through the doorway with a wince and a groan at a nurse who insisted he remain in bed. "I'm fine, shit…" His head shot up to the sound of Princess' wail. "Cassie?" He shot a glare at Anderson. "What happened?"

Anderson stopped and swept his fingers along the floor to clutch her communicator tightly in his hand. "I swear you kids will be the death of me." Even though he attempted to sound legitimately annoyed there was a soft break in his voice.

Mark angled his head and offered a stare of disappointment. "I'm going to go talk to her." He turned to stalk down the hallway but was halted as Anderson clutched at his upper arm.

"Leave her," he ordered firmly. "She needs time to work this all out in her head before anyone talks to her. She made a grave error of judgement this evening and needs to learn from it."

"There was no error," Mark protested. "She defended herself against a possible gang rape and then came to my defence when I was taken down." He gave a hard wipe of his hand across the bandage around his waist. "She reacted in the way you taught her to, like a soldier defending her squadron."

Anderson's whole body tensed. "Was it really to that extreme, Commander? Were those boys about to attack her; or were you just being a jealous boyfriend?"

Mark rolled his neck. "Jealousy has nothing to do with it, Sir. I believed she was in immediate danger and enlisted the help of Jason and Tiny." He pulled his shirt up over his head and yanked it down hard over his torso. "If anyone is to blame for what happened out there it's me. I was the one who started the fight – Cassandra merely ended it."

Anderson let out a long snort. "I will be the judge of that claim once I view the security footage of what happened." He strode a single stride forward and angled his head to keep a glare on Mark. "Until I say otherwise, noone speaks with Princess. She's grounded, as are all of you. You will all sequester yourselves in your rooms until further notice."

"Then maybe while you're viewing the security footage you might check out some of our training disks as well," Mark countered arrogantly. "If you are going to persist in becoming belligerent every time one of us acts on the instinct you've forced into us, then you might want to adjust our training a little to something more..." he circled his finger in the air as if searching for the right words. "…more, typical of a teenager."

"Now who's being belligerent," Anderson snapped back.

Mark shrugged and stalked down the hallway toward his room. "I had a good teacher."


End file.
